•S  H 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

Class 


EUGENE    FIELD 


VOLUME    I 


EUGENE  FIELD 

A   STUDY    IN    HEREDITY  AND 
CONTRADICTIONS 


BY 


SLASON    THOMPSON 


WITH    PORTRAITS,   VIEWS    AND 
FAG-SIMILE   ILLUSTRATIONS 


'VOLUME 'I 


CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 
NEW    YORK  ::  ::  ::  ::  ::  ::  ::  1901 


COPYRIGHT,  1901,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


All  rights  reserved 


Published,  December,  1901 


TROW  DIRECTORY 

PRINTING  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPANY 
MEW  YORK 


BY  WAY  OF  INTRODUCTION 

Not  as  other  memoirs  are  written  would  Eugene 
Field,  were  he  alive,  have  this  study  of  his  life. 
He  would  think  more  of  making  it  reflect  the  odd 
personality  of  the  man  than  rehearse  the  birth,  de 
velopment,  daily  life,  and  works  of  the  author.  If 
he  had  undertaken  to  write  his  own  life,  as  was 
once  his  intention,  it  would  probably  have  been  the 
most  remarkable  work  of  fiction  by  an  American 
author  that  ever  masqueraded  in  the  quaker  gar 
ments  of  fact.  From  title-page  to  colophon — on 
which  he  would  have  insisted — the  book  would  have 
been  one  studied  effort  to  quiz  and  queer  (a  favorite 
word  of  his)  the  innocent  and  willing-to-be-deluded 
reader.  "  Tell  your  sister  for  me,"  I  recall  his  say 
ing,  "  what  a  kind,  good,  and  deserving  man  I  am. 
How  I  love  little  children  and  [with  a  dry  chuckle] 
elderly  spinsters.  Relate  how  I  was  born  of  rich 
yet  honest  parents,  was  reared  in  the  '  nurture  and 
admonition  of  the  Lord/  and,  according  to  the  bent 
of  a  froward  youth,  have  stumbled  along  to  become 
the  cynosure  of  a  ribald  age." 


225405 


vi  BY  WAY  OF  INTRODUCTION 

Field's  idea  of  a  perfect  memoir  was  that  it 
should  contain  no  facts  that  might  interfere  with 
its  being  novel  and  interesting  reading  both  to  the 
public  and  its  subject.  He  set  little  store  by 
genius,  as  he  tells  us  in  one  of  his  letters,  and  less 
by  "  that  nonsense  called  useful  knowledge."  His 
peculiar  notions  as  to  the  field  of  biography  were 
once  illustrated  in  one  he  furnished  to  a  New  York 
firm,  which  proposed  a  series  of  biographies  of  well- 
known  newspaper  writers.  It  was  arranged  that 
Field  and  William  E.  Curtis,  the  noted  Washing 
ton  correspondent,  should  write  each  the  other's 
biography  for  the  series.  Mr.  Curtis  executed  his 
sketch  of  Field  in  good  faith;  Field's  sketch  of 
Mr.  Curtis  was  a  marvel  of  waggish  invention. 
Through  an  actor  of  the  same  name  who  some 
years  before  made  quite  a  reputation  as  Samuel  of 
Posen,  he  traced  Mr.  Curtis's  birth  back  to  Bo 
hemia,  and  carried  him  at  an  early  age  to  Jerusa 
lem,  where  Curtis  was  said  to  have  laid  the  founda 
tions  of  his  fame  and  fortune  peddling  suspenders. 
Later  he  sold  newspapers  on  the  streets,  and,  by 
practicing  the  shrewd  and  self-denying  habits  of 
his  race,  quickly  became  the  owner  of  the  paper 
for  which  he  worked,  which  was  called  the  New 
Jerusalem  Messenger,  the  recognized  organ  of  the 
New  Jerusalem  Church. 


BY  WAY   OF  INTRODUCTION          vii 

Mr.  Curtis's  progressive  tendencies,  according  to 
Field,  quickly  involved  him  in  trouble  with  the 
government;  his  paper  was  suppressed,  and  he  was 
banished  from  Jerusalem.  When  the  special  fir- 
min  of  the  Sultan  expelling  Mr.  Curtis  from  Turk 
ish  dominions  was  published,  it  caused  a  great 
sensation  in  Chicago,  where  the  Church  of  the  New 
Jerusalem  was  very  strong,  and  created  an  im 
mediate  rivalry  between  William  Penn  Nixon,  edi 
tor  of  the  Inter  Ocean,  and  Melville  E.  Stone,  editor 
of  the  Morning  News,  to  secure  his  services.  Mr. 
Nixon  sent  him  a  cablegram  in  Hebrew  which  was 
written  by  a  Hebrew  gentleman  to  whom  Nixon 
sold  old  clothes,  while  Mr.  Stone's  cablegram  was 
prepared  by  his  father,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Stone,  and 
was  expressed  in  scriptural  phraseology  which  was 
not  understood  in  Jerusalem  as  well  as  it  was  at 
Galesburg,  where  Mr.  Stone  was  then  professor  of 
the  Hebrew  language  and  literature.  Curtis  ac 
cepted  the  offer  couched  in  the  language  of  the  He 
brew  vender  of  old  clothes  and  became  a  member 
of  the  editorial  staff  of  the  Inter  Ocean.  His  first 
effective  work  on  that  newspaper  was  to  convert 
Jonathan  Young  Scammon,  then  its  owner,  to  the 
New  Jerusalem  faith  (Mr.  Scammon,  whose  real 
name  was  John,  was  the  most  prominent  Sweden- 
borgian  in  Chicago).  Mr.  Scammon  was  so  grate- 


viii         BY  WAY   OF  INTRODUCTION 

ful  for  his  conversion  from  infidelity  that  in  a  mo 
ment  of  religious  exaltation  he  raised  Mr.  Curtis's 
salary  from  $18  to  $20. 

And  thus  the  biography  of  Mr.  Curtis  proceeded 
along  lines  that  gave  the  truth  a  wide  berth,  for 
Field  held,  with  the  old  English  jurists,  that  the 
greater  the  truth  the  greater  the  libel. 

At  one  time  in  our  association  Field,  as  seriously 
as  he  could,  entertained  the  thought  of  furnishing 
me  with  materials  for  an  extended  sketch  of  his  life, 
and  I  still  have  several  envelopes  on  which  the  in 
scription  "  For  My  Memoirs  "  bears  witness  to  that 
purpose.  But  after  serving  as  a  source  of  eccentric 
and  roguish  humor  for  several  months,  the  idea  was 
suffered  to  lapse,  only  to  be  revived  in  suggestive 
references  as  he  consigned  some  bit  of  manuscript 
to  my  care  or  criticism.  Any  study  of  Field's  life 
and  character  based  on  such  materials  as  he  thus 
furnished  would  have  been  absolutely  misleading. 
It  would  have  eliminated  fact  entirely  and  substi 
tuted  the  most  fantastic  fiction  in  its  stead.  It 
would  have  built  up  a  grotesque  caricature  of  a  staid, 
church-going,  circumspect  citizen  and  author  instead 
of  the  ever-fascinating  bundle  of  contradictions  and 
irresponsibility  Field  was  to  his  legion  of  associates 
and  friends. 

There  were  two  Fields — the  author  and  the  man 


BY  WAY   OF  INTRODUCTION  ix 

— and  it  is  the  purpose  of  this  study  to  reproduce 
the  latter  as  he  appeared  to  those  who  knew  and 
loved  him  for  what  he  was  personally  for  the  benefit 
of  those  who  have  only  known  him  through  the 
medium  of  his  writings.  In  doing  this  it  is  far  from 
my  intention  and  farther  from  my  friendship  to  dis 
turb  any  of  the  preconceptions  that  have  been 
formed  from  the  perusal  of  his  works.  These  are 
the  creations  of  something  entirely  apart  from  the 
man  whose  genius  produced  them.  His  fame  as  an 
author  rests  on  his  printed  books,  and  will  endure  as 
surely  as  the  basis  of  his  art  was  true,  his  methods 
severely  simple,  and  his  spirit  gentle  and  pure.  In 
his  daily  work  the  dominant  note  was  that  of  fun 
and  conviviality.  It  was  free  from  the  acrimony 
of  controversy.  He  abominated  speech-makers  and 
lampooned  political  oracles.  He  was  the  unsparing 
satirist  of  contemporary  pretense,  which  in  itself 
was  sufficient  to  account  for  the  failure  of  the  pass 
ing  generation  of  literary  critics  to  accord  to  him 
the  recognition  which  he  finally  won  in  their  despite 
from  the  reading  public.  Neither  a  sinner  nor  a 
saint  was  the  man  who  went  into  an  old  book-store 
in  Chicago  and  bewildered  the  matter-of-fact  dealer 
in  old  editions  with  the  inquiry,  "  Have  you  an  un- 
expurgated  copy  of  Hannah  More's  '  Letters  to  a 
Village  Maiden'?" 


x  BY  WAY   OF  INTRODUCTION 

Everything  Field  wrote  in  prose  or  verse  reflects 
his  contempt  for  earth's  mighty  and  his  sympathy 
for  earth's  million  mites.  His  art,  like  that  of  his 
favorite  author  and  prototype,  Father  Prout,  was 
"  to  magnify  what  is  little  and  fling  a  dash  of  the 
sublime  into  a  two-penny  post  communication." 
Sense  of  earthly  grandeur  he  had  little  or  none. 
Sense  of  the  minor  sympathies  of  life — those  minor 
sympathies  that  are  common  to  all  and  finally  swell 
into  the  major  song  of  life — of  this  sense  he  was 
compact.  It  was  the  meat  and  marrow  of  his  life 
and  mind,  of  his  song  and  story.  With  unerring 
instinct  Field,  in  his  study  of  humanity,  went  to  the 
one  school  where  the  emotions,  wishes,  and  passions 
of  mankind  are  to  be  seen  unobscured  by  the  veil 
of  consciousness.  He  was  forever  scanning  what 
ever  lies  hidden  within  the  folds  of  the  heart  of 
childhood.  He  knew  children  through  and  through 
because  he  studied  them  from  themselves  and  not 
from  books.  He  associated  with  them  on  terms  of 
the  most  intimate  comradeship  and  wormed  his  way 
into  their  confidence  with  assiduous  sympathy. 
Thus  he  became  possessed  of  the  inmost  secrets  of 
their  childish  joys  and  griefs  and  so  became  a  lit 
erary  philosopher  of  childhood. 

"  In  wit  a  man,  in  simplicity  a  child,"  nothing 
gloomy,  narrow,  or  pharisaical  entered  into  the  com- 


BY  WAY   OF  INTRODUCTION  xi 

position  of  Eugene  Field.  Like  Jack  Montesquieu 
Bellew,  the  editor  of  the  Cork  Chronicle,  "  his 
finances,  alas!  were  always  miserably  low."  This 
followed  from  his  learning  how  to  spend  money 
freely  before  he  was  forced  to  earn  it  laboriously. 
He  scattered  his  patrimony  gaily  and  then  when  the 
last  inherited  cent  was  gone,  turned  with  equal  gay- 
ety  to  earning,  not  only  enough  to  support  himself, 
but  the  wife  and  family  that,  with  the  royal  and 
reckless  prodigality  of  genius,  he  provided  himself 
with  at  the  very  outset  of  his  career. 

If  he  set  "  no  store  by  genius,"  he  at  least  had 
that  faith  in  his  own  ability  which  "  compels  the 
elements  and  wrings  a  human  music  from  the  in 
different  air."  From  the  time  he  applied  himself 
to  the  ill-requited  work  of  journalism  he  never 
wavered  or  turned  aside  in  his  purpose  to  make  it 
the  ladder  to  literary  recognition.  He  was  over 
thirty  before  he  realized  that  in  three  universities  he 
had  slighted  the  opportunity  to  acquire  a  thorough 
equipment  for  literary  work.  But  he  was  undis 
mayed,  for  did  he  not  read  in  his  beloved  "  Eeliques 
of  Father  Prout "  how  "  Loyola,  the  founder  of  the 
most  learned  and  by  far  the  most  distinguished  lit 
erary  corporation  that  ever  arose  in  the  world,  was 
an  old  soldier  who  took  tip  his  '  Latin  Grammar ' 
when  past  the  age  of  thirty  "  ? 


xii          BY  WAY   OF  INTRODUCTION 

It  is  the  contrast  and  apparent  contradiction  be 
tween  the  individual  and  the  author  that  makes  the 
character  of  Eugene  Field  interesting  to  the  student. 
If  the  man  were  simply  any  prosaic  person  pos 
sessed  of  the  gift  of  telling  tales,  writing  stories,  and 
singing  lullabies,  this  study  of  his  life  would  have 
been  left  unwritten.  Many  authors  have  I  known 
who  put  all  there  was  of  them  into  their  work,  who 
were  personally  a  disappointment  to  the  intellect 
and  a  trial  to  the  flesh.  With  Eugene  Field  the 
man  was  always  a  bundle  of  delightful  surprises,  an 
ever  unconventional  personality  of  which  only  the 
merest  suggestion  is  given  in  his  works. 

In  the  study  I  have  made  of  the  life  of  Eugene 
Field  in  the  following  pages  I  have  received  assist 
ance  from  many  sources,  but  none  has  been  of  so 
great  value  as  that  from  his  father's  friend,  Melvin 
L.  Gray,  in  whose  home  Field  found  the  counsel  of 
a  father  and  the  loving  sympathy  of  a  mother.  The 
letters  Mr.  Gray  placed  at  my  disposal,  whether 
quoted  herein  or  not,  have  been  invaluable  in  filling 
in  the  portrait  of  his  beloved  ward. 

To  Edward  D.  Cowen,  whose  intimate  friendship 
with  Field  covered  a  period  of  nearly  fifteen  years 
in  three  cities  and  under  varying  circumstances, 
these  pages  owe  very  much.  From  his  brother, 
Koswell  Field,  I  have  had  the  best  sort  of  sympa- 


BY   WAY   OF  INTRODUCTION         xiii 

thetic  aid  and  counsel  in  filling  out  biographical  de 
tail  without  in  any  way  committing  himself  to  the 
views  or  statements  of  this  study. 

Dr.  Frank  W.  Reilly,  to  whom  Field  not  only 
owed  his  vitalized  familiarity  with  Horace,  "Front," 
and  "  Kit  North,"  but  that  superficial  knowledge 
of  medical  terms  of  which  he  made  such  constant 
and  effective  use  throughout  his  writings,  has  also 
placed  me  under  many  obligations  for  data  and 
advice. 

To  these  and  the  others  whose  names  are  freely 
sprinkled  through  this  study  I  wish  to  make  fitting 
acknowledgment  of  my  many  obligations,  and  I 
trust  the  reader  will  share  my  grateful  sentiments 
wherever  the  faithful  quotation  marks  remind  him 
that  such  is  their  due. 

SLASON  THOMPSON. 

CHICAGO,  September  30th,  1901. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.    PEDIGREE .1 

II.  His  FATHER'S  FIRST  LOVE-AFFAIR    .        .     13 

III.  THE  DRED  SCOTT  CASE       ....     36 

IV.  BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YOUTH  .        .       .        .49 
V.     EDUCATION 73 

VI.  CHOICE  OF  A  PROFESSION    .        .        .       .91 

VII.  MARRIAGE  AND  EARLY  DOMESTIC  LIFE     .  103 

VIII.  EARLY  EXPERIENCES  IN  JOURNALISM        .  126 

IX.     IN  DENVER,  1881-1883 143 

X.  ANECDOTES  OF  LIFE  IN  DENVER        .       .  158 

XI.  COMING  TO  CHICAGO     .        .        .       .       .183 

XII.  PERSONAL  CHARACTERISTICS        .        .        .  206 

XIII.  RELATIONS  WITH  STAGE  FOLK    .        .        .  224 

XIV.  BEGINNING  OF  His  LITERARY  EDUCATION  271 
XV.  METHOD  OF  WORK        ."       .       .        .        .  294 

XVI.  NATURE  OF  His  DAILY  WORK                    .  314 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PORTRAIT  OF  EUGENE  FIELD  IN  1885    .    Frontispiece 

Photogravure. 


DRAWINGS  AND  FAC-SIMILES 

PAGE 

"THE  PEAR"  IN  FIELD'S  GREEK  TEXT       .        .  140 
DAILY  NEWS  EDITORIAL  COUNCIL  OF  WAR  .        .213 

From  a  drawing  by  Eugene  Field. 

COMMODORE  CRANE 236 

From  a  drawing  by  Eugene  Field. 

FIELD  WITNESSING  MODJESKA  AS  CAMILLE  .        .  244 

From  a  drawing  by  Eugene  Field. 

Two  PROFILES  OF  EUGENE  FIELD         .        .        .  247 

The  upper  one  drawn  in  pencil  by  Field  himself;  the 
loiver  one  drawn  by  Modjeska.  Reproduced  from  a  fly 
leaf  of  Mrs.  Thompson's  volume  of  autograph  verse. 

A  BAR  OF  Music 295 

Written  by  Eugene  Field. 

Two  GOOD  KNIGHTS  AT  FEAST       .        .        .        .297 

From  a  drawing  by  Eugene  Field. 
xvii 


xviii  ILLUSTKATIONS 

HALF-TONE   PLATES  FACING 

PAGE 

GENERAL  MARTIN  FIELD 6 

Eugene  Field's  Grandfather. 

ESTHER  S.  FIELD 10 

Eugene  Field's  Grandmother. 

ROSWELL  MARTIN  FIELD 18 

Eugene  Field's  Father. 

CHARLES  KELLOGG  FIELD 46 

EUGENE  FIELD'S  MOTHER 50 

From  a  Daguerreotype  taken  a,  year  or  two  before  his 
birth. 

EUGENE  FIELD'S  COUSINS,  MARY  FIELD  FRENCH 
AND  HER  YOUNGER  HALF-SISTER,  AUGUSTA 
JONES 54 

From  a  Daguerreotype  taken  before  Eugene  and  Roswell 
became  members  of  Miss  French's  family  in  Amherst, 
on  the  death  of  their  mother. 

THE  FIELD  HOMESTEAD  AT  NEWFANE,  VT.  .        .    56 
THE  HOMESTEAD  AT  AMHERST,  MASS.    ...     60 

Now  owned  by  Mr.  Hiram  Eaton,  of  New  York. 

A  BIRD'S-EYE  VIEW  OF  MONSON,  MASS.        .        .    74 
THE  REV.  JAMES  TUFTS 78 

WILLIAMS  COLLEGE  BUILDINGS,  WILLIAMSTOWN, 
MASS 82 

THE  OLD  KNOX  COLLEGE  BUILDINGS,  GALESBURG, 
ILL 86 

STATE  UNIVERSITY  BUILDINGS  AT  COLUMBIA,  Mo.    88 


ILLUSTBATIONS  xix 

PACING 
PAGE 

EARLY  PORTRAITS  OF  EUGENE  FIELD    ...    92 

MELVIN  L.  GRAY 96 

MRS.  MELVIN  L.  GRAY 100 

MRS.  EUGENE  FIELD 110 

ROBSON  AND  CRANE  IN  ' '  SHARPS  AND  FLATS  ' '    .  204 
FIELD  AT  WORK 218 

The  caricature  from  a  drawing  by  Sclanders. 

FRANCIS  WILSON 228 

WILLIAM  J.  FLORENCE    ......  234 

MODJESKA 242 

JESSIE  BARTLETT  DAVIS 256 

SOL  SMITH  RUSSELL 266 

DR.  FRANK  W.  REILLY 280 

"FATHER  PROUT" 288 

Francis  Hahony. 


EUGENE   FIELD 


EUGENE   FIELD 


CHAPTEK  I 

PEDIGREE 

"  Sir  John  Maundeville,  Kt,"  was  his  prototype, 
and  Father  Prout  was  his  patron  saint.  The  one 
introduced  him  to  the  study  of  British  balladry, 
the  other  led  him  to  the  classic  groves  of  Horace. 

"  I  am  a  Yankee  by  pedigree  and  education," 
wrote  Eugene  Field  to  Alice  Morse  Earle,  the 
author  of  "  The  Sabbath  in  Puritan  New  Eng 
land,"  and  other  books  of  the  same  flavor,  "  but  I 
was  born  in  that  ineffably  uninteresting  city,  St. 
Louis." 

How  so  devoted  a  child  of  all  that  is  queer  and 
contradictory  in  New  England  character  came  to  be 
born  in  "  Poor  old  Mizzoorah,"  as  he  so  often  wrote 
it,  is  in  itself  a  rare  romance,  which  I  propose  to  tell 
as  the  key  to  the  life  and  works  of  Eugene  Field. 
Part  of  it  is  told  in  the  reports  of  the  Supreme 
Court  of  Vermont,  part  in  the  most  remarkable 

special  pleas  ever  permitted  in  a  chancery  suit  in 
VOL.  I.— 1  1 


EUGENE  FIELD 


America,  and  the  best  part  still  lingers  in  the  mem 
ory  of  the  good  people  of  Newfane  and  Brattleboro, 
Vt,  where  "  them  Field  boys  "  are  still  referred  to 
as  unaccountable  creatures,  full  of  odd  conceits, 
"  an'  dredful  sot  when  once  they  took  a  notion." 

"  Them  Field  boys  "  were  not  Eugene  and  his 
brother  Eos  well  Martin  Field,  the  joint  authors  of 
translations  from  Horace,  known  as  "  Echoes  from 
the  Sabine  Farm,"  but  their  father,  Eoswell 
Martin,  and  their  uncle,  Charles  Kellogg,  Field  of 
Newfane  aforesaid. 

These  two  Fields  were  the  sons  of  General  Mar 
tin  Field,  who  was  born  in  Leverett,  Mass.,  Feb 
ruary  12th,  1773,  and  of  his  wife,  Esther  Smith 
Kellogg,  who  was  the  grandmother  celebrated  in 
more  than  one  of  Eugene  Field's  stories  and  poems. 
Through  both  sides  of  the  houses  of  Field  and  Kel 
logg  the  pedigree  of  Eugene  can  be  traced  back  to 
the  first  settlers  of  New  England.  But  there  is  no 
need  to  go  back  of  the  second  generation  to  find 
and  identify  the  seed  whence  sprang  the  strangely 
interesting  subject  of  this  study. 

At  the  opening  of  the  nineteenth  century,  as 
now,  Newfane,  then  Fayetteville,  was  a  typical 
county  seat.  This  pretty  New  England  village, 
which  celebrated  the  centennial  of  its  organization 
as  a  town  in  1874,  is  situated  on  the  West  River, 


PEDIGREE 


some  twelve  miles  from  Brattleboro,  at  which  point 
that  noisy  stream  joins  the  more  sedate  Connecti 
cut  River.  It  nestles  under  the  hills  upon  which, 
at  a  distance  of  two  miles,  was  the  site  of  the  origi 
nal  town  of  Newfane — not  a  vestige  of  which  re 
mains  to  remind  the  traveller  that  up  to  1825  the 
shire  town  of  Windham  County  overlooked  as  grand 
a  panorama  as  ever  opened  up  before  the  eye  of 
man.  The  reason  for  abandoning  the  exposed  loca 
tion  on  the  hills  for  the  sheltered  nook  by  the  river 
may  be  inferred  from  the  descriptive  adjectives. 
The  present  town  of  Newfane  clusters  about  a 
village  square,  that  would  have  delighted  the  heart 
of  Oliver  Goldsmith.  The  county  highway  bisects 
it.  The  Windham  County  Hotel,  with  the  windows 
of  its  northern  end  grated  to  prevent  the  escape  of 
inmates — signifying  that  its  keeper  is  half  boni- 
face  and  half  county  jailer — bounds  it  on  the  east, 
the  Court  House  and  Town  Hall,  separate  build 
ings,  flank  it  on  the  west.  The  Xewfane  Hotel 
rambles  along  half  of  its  northern  side,  and  the 
Field  mansion,  with  its  front  garden  stretching  to 
the  road,  does  the  same  for  the  southern  half.  In 
the  rear,  and  facing  the  opening  between  the  Court 
House  and  the  Town  Hall,  stands  the  Congrega 
tional  Church,  where  Eugene  Field  crunched  cara 
way-seed  biscuits  when  on  a  visit  to  his  grand- 


EUGENE  FIELD 


mother,  and  back  of  this  stands  another  church, 
spotless  in  the  white  paint  of  Puritan  New 
England  meeting-houses,  but  deserted  by  its  congre 
gation  of  Baptists,  which  had  dwindled  to  the 
vanishing  point.  In  the  centre  of  the  village  green 
is  a  grove  of  noble  elms  under  whose  grateful  shade, 
on  the  day  of  my  visit  to  Newfane,  I  saw  a 
quartette  of  gray-headed  attorneys,  playing  quoits 
with  horse-shoes.  They  had  come  up  from  Brattle- 
boro  to  try  a  case,  which  had  suffered  the  usual 
"  law's  delay  "  of  a  continuance,  and  were  whiling 
away  the  hours  in  the  bucolic  sport  of  their  ances 
tors,  while  the  idle  villagers  enjoyed  their  unprac 
tised  awkwardness.  They  all  boasted  how  they 
could  ring  the  peg  when  they  were  boys. 

Hither  General  Martin  Field  brought  the  young, 
and,  as  surviving  portraits  testify,  beautiful  Mis 
tress  Kellogg  to  be  his  wife.  Here  to  them  were 
born  "  them  Field  boys,"  Charles  K.  (April  24th, 
1803)  and  Eoswell  M.  (February  22d,  1807), 
destined  to  be  thorns  in  their  father's  flesh  through 
out  their  school-days,  his  opponents  in  every  justice's 
court  where  they  could  volunteer  to  match  their 
wits  against  his,  and,  in  the  person  of  Koswell 
Martin,  to  be  the  distraction  and  despair  of  the 
courts  of  Windsor  County  and  Vermont,  until  a 
decision  of  the  Supreme  Court  so  outraged  that 


PEDIGREE 


son's  sense  of  the  sacredness  of  the  marriage  vow, 
that  he  shook  the  granite  dust  of  Vermont  from  his 
feet,  and  turned  his  face  to  the  west,  where  he  be 
came  the  original  counsel  in  the  Dred  Scott  case, 
married  and  had  sons  of  his  own. 

But  before  taking  up  the  thread  of  Roswell  Mar 
tin  Field's  strange  and  unique  story,  let  me  give  a 
letter  written  by  his  father  to  his  sister,  Miss  Mary 
Field,  then  at  the  school  of  Miss  Emma  Willard 
in  Troy,  !N".  Y.,  as  exhibit  number  one,  that  Eugene 
Field  came  by  his  peculiarities,  literary  and  other 
wise,  by  direct  lineal  descent.  Roswell  was  a 
phenomenal  scholar,  as  his  own  eldest  son  was  not. 
At  the  age  of  eleven  he  was  ready  for  college,  and 
entered  Middlebury  with  his  brother  Charles,  his 
senior  by  four  years.  How  they  conducted  them 
selves  there  may  be  judged  from  this  letter  to  their 
sister: 

NEWFANE,  March  31st,  1822. 

DEAR  MARY: 

I  sit  down  to  write  you  my  last  letter  while  you 
remain  at  Troy.  Yours  by  Mr.  Eead  was  received, 
in  which  I  find  you  allude  to  the  "  severe  and  satyri- 
cal  language  "  of  mine  in  a  former  letter.  That  let 
ter  was  written  upon  the  conduct  of  my  children,, 
which  is  an  important  subject  to  me.  If  children  are 
disobedient,  a  parent  has  a  right  to  be  severe  with 


EUGENE  FIELD 


them.  If  I  recollect  right  I  expressed  to  you  that 
your  two  oldest  brothers'  conduct  was  very  reprehen 
sible,  and  I  there  predicted  their  ruin.  But  I  then 
little  thought  that  I  should  soon  witness  the  sad  con 
sequences  of  their  ill-conduct.  I  received  a  letter 
from  President  Bates  about  two  weeks  since  and  an 
other  from  Charles  the  same  day,  that  Charles  had 
been  turned  away  and  forever  dismissed  from  the  col 
lege  for  his  misconduct ;  Eoswell  must  suffer  a  public 
admonition  and  perhaps  more  punishment  for  his  evil 
deeds.  Charles  was  turned  out  of  college  the  7th  of 
March,  and  I  wrote  on  the  week  after  to  have  him 
come  directly  home,  but  we  have  heard  nothing  from 
him  since.  Where  he  is  we  can  form  no  conjecture. 
But  probably  he  is  five  hundred  miles  distant  without 
money  and  without  friends.  I  leave  you  to  con 
jecture  the  rest.  Roswell  is  left  alone  at  the  age  of 
fifteen  to  get  along,  if  he  is  permitted  to  stay  through 
college. 

These,  Mary,  are  the  consequences  of  dissipation 
and  bad  conduct.  And  seeing  as  I  do  the  temper 
and  disposition  of  my  children,  that  they  "are  in 
clined  to  evil  and  that  continually,"  can  you  wonder 
that  I  write  with  severity  to  them?  Our  hopes  are 
blasted  as  relates  to  Charles  and  Roswell,  and  you 
cannot  conceive  the  trouble  which  they  have  given  us. 
Your  mother  is  almost  crazy  about  them;  nor  are 
we  without  fears  as  to  you.  I  say  now,  as  I  said 
in  my  former  letter,  that  I  wish  my  children  were  all 


GENERAL  MARTIN  FIELD. 

Eugene  Field's  Grandfather. 


PEDIGREE 


at  home  at  work.  I  am  convinced  that  an  education 
will  only  prove  injurious  to  them.  If  I  had  as  many 
sons  as  had  the  patriarch  Jacob  not  one  should  ever 
again  go  nigh  a  college.  It  is  not  a  good  calculation 
to  educate  children  for  destruction.  The  boys'  con 
duct  has  already  brought  a  disgrace  upon  our  family 
which  we  can  never  outgrow.  They  undoubtedly 
possess  respectable  talents  and  genius,  but  what  are 
talents  worth  when  wholly  employed  in  mischief  ? 

I  have  expended  almost  two  thousand  dollars  in 
educating  the  boys,  and  now  just  at  the  close  they  are 
sent  off  in  disgrace  and  infamy.  The  money  is  noth 
ing  in  comparison  to  the  disgrace  and  ruin  that  must 
succeed.  Mary,  think  of  these  things  often,  and  es 
pecially  when  you  feel  inclined  to  be  gay  and  airy. 
Let  your  brother's  fate  be  a  striking  lesson  to  you. 
For  you  may  well  suppose  that  you  possess  something 
of  the  same  disposition  that  he  does,  but  I  hope  that 
you  will  exercise  more  prudence  than  he  has.  You 
must  now  return  home  with  a  fixed  resolution  to  be 
come  a  steady,  sober,  and  industrious  girl.  Give  up 
literary  pursuits  and  quietly  and  patiently  follow  that 
calling  which  I  am  convinced  is  most  proper  for  my 
children. 

It  does  appear  to  me  that  if  children  would  con 
sider  how  much  anxiety  their  parents  have  for  them 
they  would  conduct  themselves  properly,  if  it  was  only 
to  gratify  their  parents.  But  it  is  not  so.  Many  of 
them  seem  determined  not  only  to  wound  the  feelings 


8  EUGENE  FIELD 

of  the  parents  in  the  most  cruel  manner  but  also  to 
ruin  themselves. 

Kemember  us  respectfully  to  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Willard, 
and  I  am  your  affectionate  father 

MARTIN*  FIELD. 

That  Mary  did  return  home  to  be  the  mediator 
between  her  incensed  and  stern  father  and  his  way 
ward  and  mischievous,  but  not  incorrigible  sons,  is 
part  of  the  sequel  to  this  letter.  What  her  daugh 
ter,  Mary  Field  French,  afterwards  became  to  the 
sons  of  the  younger  of  the  reprehensible  pair  of 
youthful  collegians  will  appear  later  on  in  this 
narrative.  It  is  beautifully  acknowledged  in  the 
dedication  of  Eugene  Field's  "  Little  Book  of 
Western  Verse,"  which  I  had  the  honor  of  publish 
ing  for  the  subscribers  in  1889,  more  than  three 
score  years  after  the  date  of  the  foregoing  letter. 
In  that  dedication,  with  the  characteristic  license  of 
a  true  artist,  Field  credited  the  choice  of  Miss 
French  for  the  care  of  his  youthful  years  to  his 
mother: 

A  dying  mother  gave  to  you 

Her  child  a  many  years  ago; 
How  in  your  gracious  love  he  grew, 

You  know  dear,  patient  heart,  you  know. 


PEDIGEEE 


To  you  I  dedicate  this  book, 
And>  as  you  read  it  line  by  line, 

Upon  its  faults  as  kindly  look 
As  you  have  always  looked  on  mine. 

In  truth,  however,  it  was  the  living  bereaved 
father  who  turned  in  the  bewilderment  of  his  grief 
to  the  "  dear  patient  heart "  of  his  sister,  to  find  a 
second  mother  for  his  two  motherless  boys.  To 
Martin  Field,  Mary  was  a  guardian  daughter,  to 
Charles  K.  and  Eoswell  M.  1st,  she  was  a  loyal  and 
mediating  sister,  and  to  Eugene  and  Roswell  M. 
2d,  she  was  a  loving  aunt,  as  her  daughter  Mary 
was  an  indulgent  mother  and  unfailing  friend.  The 
last  name  survived  "  the  love  and  gratitude  "  of 
Eugene's  dedication  ten  years. 

As  may  have  been  surmised  the  parental  fore 
bodings  of  the  grieved  and  satirical  General  Field 
were  not  realized  in  the  eternal  perdition  of  his  two 
sons.  Education  did  not  prove  their  destruction. 
With  more  than  respectable  talents  Charles  was 
reinstated  at  Middlebury,  and  four  months  later 
graduated  with  high  honors,  while  Roswell  took  his 
degree  when  only  fifteen  years  old,  the  plague  and 
admiration  of  his  preceptors,  and,  we  may  well 
suppose,  the  pride  and  joy  of  the  agonized  parents, 
who  welcomed  the  graduates  to  Newfane  with  all 
the  profusion  of  a  prodigal  father  and  the  love  of  a 


10  EUGENE  FIELD 

distracted  but  doting  mother.  They  never  had  any 
reason  to  doubt  the  nature  of  sister  Mary's  re 
ception. 

Charles  and  Koswell  studied  law  with  their 
father  in  the  quaint  little  office  detached  from  the 
Field  homestead  at  Newfane.  The  word  edifice 
might  fittingly  be  applied  to  this  building  which, 
though  only  one  room  square  and  one  story  high, 
has  a  front  on  the  public  square,  with  miniature 
Greek  columns  to  distinguish  it  from  the  ordinary 
outbuildings  that  are  such  characteristic  appendages 
of  New  England  houses.  The  troubles  of  General 
Field  with  his  two  sons  were  not  to  end  when  he  got 
them  away  from  the  temptations  of  college  life,  for 
they  were  prone  to  mischief,  "  and  that  contin 
ually,"  even  under  his  severe  and  watchful  eye. 
This  took  one  particular  form  which  is  the  talk  of 
Windham  County  even  yet.  By  reason  of  their 
presence  in  General  Field's  office  they  were  early 
apprised  of  actions  at  law  which  he  was  retained  to 
institute;  whereupon  they  sought  out  the  defend 
ant  and  offered  their  services  to  represent  him  gratis. 
Thus  the  elder  counsellor  frequently  found  himself 
pitted  in  the  justice's  courts  against  his  keen-witted 
and  graceless  sons,  who  availed  themselves  of  every 
obsolete  technicality,  quirk,  and  precedent  of  the 
law  to  obstruct  justice  and  worry  their  dignified 


ESTHER  S.    FIELD. 
Eugene  Field's  Grandmother. 


PEDIGREE  11 


parent,  whom  they  addressed  as  "  our  learned  but 
erring  brother  in  the  law."  Not  infrequently  these 
youthful  practitioners  triumphed  in  these  legal  tilts, 
to  the  mortification  of  their  father,  who,  in  his  in 
dignation,  could  not  conceal  his  admiration  for  the 
ingenuity  of  their  misdirected  professional  zeal. 

Two  years  after  his  graduation,  and  when  only 
seventeen  years  of  age,  Eugene  Field's  father  was 
sufficiently  learned  in  the  law  to  be  admitted  to  the 
bar  of  Yermont.  They  wasted  no  time  in  those 
good  old  days.  Before  he  was  thirty,  Roswell  M. 
Field  had  represented  his  native  town  in  the  General 
Assembly,  had  been  elected  several  times  State's  At 
torney,  and  in  every  way  seemed  destined  to  play 
a  notable  part  in  the  affairs  of  Vermont,  if  not  on 
a  broader  field.  He  was  not  only  a  lawyer  of  full 
and  exact  learning,  an  ingenious  pleader,  and  a 
powerful  advocate,  but  an  exceptionally  accom 
plished  scholar.  His  knowledge  of  Greek,  Latin, 
French,  and  German  rendered  their  literature  a 
perennial  source  upon  which  to  draw  for  the  illu 
mination  and  embellishment  of  the  pure  and  virile 
English  of  which  he  was  master.  It  was  from  him 
that  Eugene  inherited  his  delight  in  queer  and  rare 
objects  of  vertu  and  that  "  rich,  strong,  musical  and 
sympathetic  voice  "  which  would  have  been  invalu 
able  on  the  stage,  and  of  which  he  made  such  capti- 


12  EUGENE  FIELD 

vating  use  among  his  friends.  Would  that  he  had 
also  inherited  that  "  strong  and  athletic  "  frame 
which,  according  to  his  aged  preceptor,  enabled 
Roswell  M.  Field  to  graduate  at  the  age  of  fifteen. 
It  is  not,  however,  for  his  learning  and  accom 
plishments  of  mind  and  person  that  we  are  interested 
in  Roswell  Martin  Field,  but  for  the  strange  inci 
dent  in  his  life  that  uprooted  him  from  the  con 
genial  environments  of  New  England  and  the  career 
opening  so  temptingly  before  him,  to  transplant  him 
to  Missouri,  there  to  become  the  father  of  a  youth, 
who,  by  all  laws  of  heredity  and  by  the  peculiar 
tang  of  his  genius,  should  have  been  born  and 
nurtured  amid  the  stern  scenes  and  fixed  customs 
of  Puritan  New  England.  That  story  must  be  told 
in  another  chapter. 


CHAPTER  II 
HIS  FATHER'S  FIRST   LOVE-AFFAIR 

Many  a  time  and  oft  in  our  walks  and  talks  has 
Eugene  Field  told  me  the  story  I  am  about  to  re 
late,  but  never  with  the  particularity  of  detail  and 
the  authority  of  absolute  data  with  which  I  have 
"  comprehended  it,"  as  he  would  say,  in  the  follow 
ing  pages.  It  was  his  wish  that  it  should  be  told, 
and  I  follow  his  injunction  the  more  readily,  as  in 
its  relation  I  am  able  to  demonstrate  how  clearly 
the  son  inherited  his  peculiar  literary  mode  from  the 
father. 

It  may  be  said  further  that,  had  the  remarkable 
situation  which  grew  out  of  Roswell  M.  Field's  first 
marriage  occurred  one  hundred  years  earlier,  or 
had  it  occurred  in  our  own  day  in  a  state  like  Ken 
tucky,  it  would  have  provoked  a  feud  that  could 
only  have  been  settled  by  blood,  while  it  might 
readily  have  imbrued  whole  counties.  Even  in 
Vermont  it  stirred  up  animosities  which  occupied 
the  attention  of  the  courts  for  years,  and  which 
the  lapse  of  nearly  two  generations  has  not  wholly 

13 


14  EUGENE  FIELD 

eradicated  from  the  memory  of  old  inhabitants. 
In  the  opening  remarks  of  the  opinion  of  the  Su 
preme  Court,  in  one  of  several  cases  growing  out 
of  it,  I  find  the  following  statement:  "It  would 
be  inexpedient  to  recapitulate  the  testimony  in  a 
transaction  which  was  calculated  to  call  up  exas 
perated  feelings,  which  has  apparently  taxed  in 
genuity  and  genius  to  criminate  and  recriminate, 
where  a  deep  sense  of  injury  is  evidently  felt  and 
expressed  by  the  parties  to  the  controversy,  and 
where  this  state  of  feeling  has  extended,  as  it  was 
to  be  expected,  to  all  the  immediate  friends  of  the 
parties,  who  from  their  situation  were  necessarily 
compelled  to  become  witnesses  and  to  testify  in  the 
case." 

In  the  relation  of  this  story  I  shall  substitute 
Christian  names  for  the  surnames  of  the  parties  out 
side  of  the  Field  family,  although  all  have  become 
public  property  and  the  principals  are  dead.  The 
scene  is  laid  in  the  adjoining  counties  of  Windham 
and  Windsor  in  the  Green  Mountain  State,  and 
this  is  how  it  happened: 

There  lived  at  Windsor,  in  the  county  of  the  same 
name,  a  widow  named  Susanna,  and  she  was  well- 
to-do  according  to  the  modest  standard  of  the  times. 
She  was  blest  with  a  goodly  family  of  sons  and 
daughters,  among  whom  was  Mary  Almira,  a 


HIS  FATHER'S  FIRST  LOVE-AFFAIR     15 

maiden  fair  to  look  upon  and  impressionable  withal. 
Now  it  befell  that  Mary  Almira,  while  still  very 
young,  was  sent  to  school  at  the  Academy  in 
Leicester,  Mass.,  where  she  met,  and,  in  the  lan 
guage  of  the  law,  formed  "  a  natural  and  virtuous 
attachment "  with  a  student  named  Jeremiah,  sent 
thither  by  his  guardian  from  Oxbridge  in  the  state 
last  before  mentioned.  They  met,  vowed  eternal 
devotion  and  parted,  as  many  school-children  have 
done  before  and  will  do  again. 

After  her  return  to  Windsor,  Jeremiah  seemingly 
faded  from  the  thoughts  of  Mary  Almira,  so  that 
when  she  subsequently  accompanied  her  mother  on 
a  visit  to  Montreal,  she  felt  free  to  experience  "  a 
sincere  and  lively  affection  "  for  a  Canadian  youth 
named  Elder.  So  lively  was  this  affection  that 
when  Jeremiah  next  saw  Mary  Almira  it  had  com 
pletely  effaced  him  from  her  memory.  Nothing 
daunted,  however,  being  then  of  the  mature  age  of 
eighteen  years  and  eight  months,  and  two  years 
Mary's  senior,  he  resumed  the  siege  of  her  heart, 
and  in  short  order  their  engagement  was  duly 
"  promulgated  and  eyen  notorious." 

Before  Mary  succumbed  to  the  second  suit  of 
Jeremiah,  she  waited  for  a  pledge  of  affection  from 
young  Mister  Elder  in  the  shape  of  an  album  in 
which  he  was  to  have  forwarded  a  communication, 


16  EUGENE  FIELD 

and  it  was  "  in  the  bitterness  of  her  disappointment 
at  not  receiving  a  letter,  message,  or  remembrance 
from  Mister  Elder  that  she  formed  the  engagement 
with  Jeremiah,  in  order  that  she  might  gratify  her 
resentment  by  sending  the  news  of  the  same  to 
Mister  Elder."  This  she  did  with  a  peremptory  re 
quest  for  the  return  of  her  album  without  the  leaves 
on  which  he  had  written.  What  was  her  chagrin 
and  unavailing  remorse  on  receiving  the  album  to 
find  that  every  leaf  was  cut  out  but  one,  a  mute 
witness  to  her  "  infidelity  to  her  early  lover." 
Small  wonder  that  "  her  tenderness  revived,"  and 
"  she  cursed  the  hour  in  which  she  had  formed  the 
precipitate  engagement  with  Jeremiah,  and  often 
times  she  shed  over  that  album  tears  of  heartfelt 
sorrow  and  regret."  At  least  so  we  are  told  in  the 
pleadings,  from  which  authentic  source  I  draw  my 
quotations. 

Now  Mary  was  nothing  if  not  precipitate,  for  all 
this  came  to  pass  in  the  spring  or  summer  of  1831, 
when  she  was  not  quite  sweet  seventeen.  It  also 
happened  without  the  knowledge  or  concern  of  Ros- 
well  Martin  Field,  who  was  a  young  and  handsome 
bachelor  of  quick  wit  and  engaging  manners,  living 
at  Fayetteville  in  the  neighboring  county,  "  know 
ing  nothing  at  that  time  of  the  said  Mary  Almira, 
her  lovers,  suitors,  promises,  engagements,  inti- 


HIS  FATHER'S  FIRST  LOVE-AFFAIR     17 

macies,  visits  or  movements  whatsoever."  He  was 
soon  to  know. 

In  the  summer  of  1832  it  happened  that  Mary 
Almira  was  on  a  visit  to  Mrs.  Jonathan,  her  cousin 
german,  the  wife  of  Justice  Jonathan  of  Brattle- 
boro,  Yt.  And  now  fate  began  to  take  a  swift 
and  inexplicable  interest  in  the  affairs  of  Mary  and 
Roswell.  On  August  30th,  1832,  in  company  with 
Mrs.  Jonathan  and  Mrs.  French  (the  Mary  Field  of 
the  first  chapter  of  this  book),  Miss  Mary  Almira 
visited  Fayetteville,  and,  we  are  told,  "  when  the 
chaise  containing  the  said  ladies  arrived  Roswell 
advanced  to  hand  them  out,  and  then  for  the  first 
time  saw  and  was  introduced  to  said  Mary  Almira, 
who  received  him  with  a  nod  and  a  broad  good- 
humored  laugh."  She  remained  over  night,  the 
guest  of  Mrs.  French,  and  Roswell  saw  her  only  for 
a  few  moments  in  his  sister's  sitting-room.  What 
occurred  is  naively  told  under  oath  in  the  following 
extract  from  the  pleadings: 

"  Some  conversation  of  a  general  nature  passed 
between  them,  and  as  the  said  Mary  Almira  was  a 
young  lady  of  very  pleasing  face  and  form  and 
agreeable  manners,  it  is  by  no  means  improbable 
that  he  (Roswell)  manifested  to  said  Mary  Almira 
that  in  those  matters  he  was  not  wholly  devoid  of 
sensibility  and  discernment."  The  next  morning 
VOL.  I.— 2 


18  EUGENE  FIELD 

Mary  returned  to  Brattleboro  with  Mrs.  Jonathan, 
and  Roswell  "  did  not  then  expect  ever  to  see  her 
more." 

But  it  was  otherwise  decreed,  for  after  the  lapse 
of  eleven  days  Justice  Jonathan  had  professional 
business  in  Fayetteville,  and,  lo!  Mary  Almira  at 
tended  him.  It  was  Tuesday,  September  llth, 
when  for  a  second  time  she  dawned  on  the  discern 
ing  view  of  Roswell.  For  eight  days  she  lingered 
as  a  guest  of  Mrs.  French,  whose  brother  began  to 
show  signs  of  awakening  sensibility,  although  at 
this  time  informed  of  the  unbroken  pact  between 
Mary  Almira  and  Jeremiah.  How  young  love  took 
its  natural  course  is  told  in  the  pleadings  by  Ros 
well  with  protests  "  against  the  manifest  breach  of 
delicacy  and  decorum  of  calling  him  into  this  Hon 
orable  Court  to  render  an  account  of  his  attentions 
to  a  lady,"  and  "  more  especially  when  that  lady  is 
his  lawful  wedded  wife." 

"When  Mary  had  been  in  Fayetteville  four  days 
it  happened  that  Justice  Jonathan  was  called  to 
"Westminster.  When  asked  if  she  was  inclined  to 
accompany  him,  Mary  turned  to  Roswell  and  "  in 
quired  with  a  smile  if  it  was  not  likely  to 
rain?"  and  Roswell  confesses  "that  he  told  her 
that  it  would  be  very  imprudent  for  her  to  set 
out." 


ROSWELL  MARTIN   FIELD. 

Eugene  Field's  Father, 


HIS  FATHER'S  FIRST  LOVE-AFFAIR     19 

Still  protesting  against  the  manifest  indelicacy 
of  the  revelation,  Roswell  has  told  for  us  the  story 
of  his  first  advances  upon  the  citadel  of  Mary's 
affections  in  words  as  cunningly  chosen  as  were 
ever  the  best  passages  in  the  writings  of  his  son 
Eugene.  It  was  on  the  evening  of  September  13th 
that  these  advances  first  passed  the  outworks  of 
formal  civility.  "  When  bidding  the  said  Mary 
Almira  good-night  in  the  sitting-room  of  Mrs. 
French,  as  he  was  about  to  retire  into  his  lodg 
ings,  Roswell  plucked  a  leaf  from  the  rosebush  in 
the  room,  kissed  it,  and  presented  it  to  her;  on 
the  next  day  when  he  saw  the  said  Mary  Almira 
she  took  from  her  bosom  a  paper,  unfolded  it,  and 
showed  Roswell  a  leaf  (the  same,  he  supposes,  that 
was  presented  the  evening  before),  neatly  stitched 
on  the  paper,  and  which  she  again  carefully  folded 
and  replaced  in  her  bosom." 

Another  evening  they  played  at  chess,  and  with 
her  permission  Roswell  named  the  queen  Miss  Al 
mira,  and  he  bent  all  his  energies  to  the  capture 
of  that  particular  piece.  He  sacrificed  every  point 
of  the  game  to  that  object,  and  when  it  was  trium 
phantly  achieved,  "  took  note  of  the  pleasure  and 
delight  manifested  by  said  Mary  Almira  at  the 
ardor  with  which  he  pursued  his  object  and  kissed 
his  prize."  On  still  another  occasion  "  Jeremiah 


20  EUGENE  FIELD 

was  introduced  into  the  game  as  a  black  bishop, 
but  very  soon  was  exchanged  for  a  pawn." 

On  the  day  when  Roswell  advised  Mary  that  it 
would  be  imprudent  for  her  to  accompany  Justice 
Jonathan  to  Westminster,  she  was  "  graciously 
pleased  to  make,  with  her  own  fair  hand,  a  pocket 
pin-cushion  of  blue  silk  and  to  put  the  same  into 
Roswell's  hands,  at  the  same  time  remarking  that 
blue  was  the  emblem  of  love  and  constancy,"  and 
Roswell  "  confesses  that  he  received  the  same  with 
a  profound  bow." 

They  were  now  in  the  rapids,  with  Jeremiah 
forgotten  on  the  bank. 

Roswell  complimented  "  the  beauty  of  said  Al- 
mira's  hair,  whereupon  she  graciously  consented  to 
present  him  with  a  lock  of  the  same,  and  he  humbly 
confesses  that  he  accepted,  kissed,  and  pressed  it 
to  his  heart." 

Next  morning,  as  they  stood  side  by  side,  with 
Roswell  holding  her  hand  "  and  carelessly  turning 
over  the  leaves  of  a  Bible,"  his  eye  accidentally 
rested  on  this  passage  of  the  book  of  Jeremiah: 
"  As  for  me,  behold,  I  am  in  your  hand:  do  with 
me  as  seemeth  good  and  meet  unto  you."  And 
"  thereupon  he  pointed  out  such  text  to  said  Mary 
Almira,  and  she  responded  to  the  same  with  a  blush 
and  a  smile."  Roswell  further  confessed,  "  that 


HIS  FATHER'S  FIRST  LOVE-AFFAIR     21 

with  the  kind  permission  of  said  Mary  Almira  he 
did  at  various  times  press  the  hand  of  said  Mary 
Almira,  and  with  her  like  gracious  permission  did 
kiss  her  hand,  her  cheek,  and  her  lips."  Who,  with 
such  kind  and  gracious  permission,  would  have 
confined  himself  to  remarks  about  the  weather? 

Such  were  the  only  "  artifices  and  persuasions, 
ways  and  means  "  by  which  Roswell  came  between 
Mary  Almira  and  the  promise  she  had  made  to  the 
absent  Jeremiah — the  same  ways  and  means  that 
have  been  employed  from  the  days  of  Adam,  and 
which  will  be  successful  while  woman  is  fair  and 
man  is  bold.  It  was  RoswelFs  belief  that  "  his 
attentions  and  addresses  were  from  the  first  agree 
able  to  Mary's  feelings  and  welcome  to  her  heart," 
and  he  swore  "  that  they  were  always  permitted 
and  received  with  great  kindness  and  sweetness  of 
manner." 

When  Mary  left  Fayetteville,  on  Wednesday, 
September  19th,  it  was  "  appointed "  that  he 
should  call  on  her  at  Brattleboro  on  the  following 
Wednesday,  and  like  a  true  knight  he  kept  his 
tryst.  That  his  reception  was  not  frigid  may  be 
inferred  from  the  record  of  the  calls  that  followed 
in  rapid  succession,  to-wit:  Thursday  afternoon; 
Monday,  October  2d,  evening;  Tuesday  afternoon 
and  evening;  Wednesday  afternoon  and  evening; 


22  EUGENE  FIELD 

Wednesday  (October  9th)  afternoon  and  evening; 
Friday  evening;  Saturday  evening,  and  Sunday 
forenoon  and  evening. 

~No  wonder  the  report  of  the  bombardment 
reached  the  ears  of  widow  Susanna  at  Windsor, 
fifty  miles  away,  and  Justice  and  Mrs.  Jonathan 
"  expostulated  with  Mary  Almira  upon  the  impro 
priety,  as  they  called  it,  of  her  receiving  the 
attentions  of  Roswell  without  informing  her 
mother." 

Space  forbids  the  recital  of  the  uninterrupted, 
undisturbed,  and  agreeable  conversations  between 
the  young  twain  that  are  to  be  found  in  the  plead 
ings  in  this  case.  They  were  brought  to  a  sharp 
conclusion  by  the  receipt  of  a  letter  from  Susanna 
ordering  her  daughter  to  return  to  Windsor  forth 
with.  Justice  Jonathan  remarked  that  Mrs.  Susan 
na  was  "  undoubtedly  right,  for  this  young  lady 
ought  not  to  be  receiving  the  gallantries  from  one 
young  gentleman  when  she  was  under  engagement 
to  another." 

The  mother's  letter  was  received  Saturday  even 
ing,  October  12th,  and  produced  consternation  in 
the  breasts  of  the  young  lovers,  Mary  clinging 
around  Roswell's  neck  "  with  all  the  ardor  of 
youthful,  passionate  love."  They  resolved  to  wed 
without  the  knowledge,  consent,  or  blessing  of  Mrs. 


HIS  FATHER'S  FIRST  LOVE-AFFAIR     23 

Susanna  or  Jeremiah,  and  on  the  morning  of  Oc 
tober  15th,  1832,  Koswell  went  to  the  house  of 
Justice  Jonathan  by  appointment  "  to  be  joined  in 
marriage  unto  said  Mary  Almira  according  to  law." 
Justice  and  Mrs.  Jonathan  expostulated  against 
such  a  marriage  without  Mrs.  Susanna  being  first 
consulted,  and  after  a  long  conference  Justice 
Jonathan  flatly  declined  to  tie  the  civil  knot.  It 
was  finally  decided  that  the  marriage  should  take 
place  at  Putney,  a  small  town  of  Windham  County, 
some  twelve  miles  on  the  Post-road  to  Windsor. 
Justice  Jonathan  proceeded  with  the  young  lady 
in  his  carriage,  and  in  due  course  arrived  at  Put 
ney.  There  he  was  surprised  to  find  the  ardent 
and  impatient  Roswell,  who,  although  behind  at 
the  start,  had  passed  him  on  the  way,  and  had  al 
ready  made  the  necessary  preparations  with  Justice 
of  the  Peace  Asa  to  perform  the  statutory  cere 
mony.  This  followed  "  in  a  solemn,  serious,  and 
impressive  manner  in  the  front  room  of  the  public 
house,  the  said  Jonathan  alone  being  present  be 
sides  the  parties  and  the  magistrate." 

The  relations  of  Roswell  and  Mary  Almira  as 
man  and  wife  began  and  ended  before  Justice  Asa 
in  that  public  house  in  Putney.  In  the  language 
of  the  pleadings:  "Immediately,  within  a  few 
minutes  after  said  marriage  ceremony,  said  Mary 


24  EUGENE  FIELD 

Almira  went  with  Justice  Jonathan  toward  Wind 
sor,  and  Roswell  in  a  short  time  returned  to  his 
residence  at  Fayetteville." 

There  were  deeper  consequences  involved  in  that 
simple  parting  than  could  have  been  imagined  by 
any  of  the  parties  or  than  are  concealed  in  the 
musty  and  voluminous  court  records  of  Windsor 
County  and  the  state  of  Vermont. 

Eugene  Field  had  an  entirely  different  concep 
tion  of  the  nature  of  this  marriage  from  that  re 
vealed  by  the  record.  According  to  his  version, 
there  was  an  old  blue  law  in  Vermont  which  ren 
dered  it  necessary,  in  order  to  exonerate  the  groom 
in  a  runaway  match  from  any  other  motive  than 
love  and  affection,  that  the  bride  should  be  divested 
of  all  her  earthly  goods.  So  when  Mary  Almira 
arrived  at  Putney  he  thought  that  she  retired  to 
a  closet,  removed  her  clothing,  and,  thrusting  her 
arm  through  a  hole  in  the  door,  was  joined  in  holy 
wedlock  to  Eoswell,  who,  with  the  Justice  and  the 
witnesses,  remained  in  the  outer  room. 

Eugene  Field  undoubtedly  derived  this  version 
of  his  father's  marriage  from  the  tradition  of  one 
that  actually  took  place  in  the  Field  mansion  on 
Newfane  Hill  in  1789.  That  was  the  marriage 
of  Major  Moses  Joy  of  Putney  to  Mrs.  Hannah 
Wood  of  Newfane,  and  the  unique  nature  of  the 


HIS   FATHER'S  FIRST  LOVE-AFFAIR     25 

proceedings  followed  legal  advice  in  order  to  avoid 
any  responsibility  for  the  debts  of  Mrs.  Ward's 
former  husband,  who  had  died  insolvent.  The 
story  which  I  find  in  the  Centennial  history  of 
Newfane  is  as  follows: 

"  Mrs.  Ward  placed  herself  in  a  closet  with  a 
tire-woman,  who  stripped  her  of  all  clothing,  and 
while  in  a  perfectly  nude  state  she  thrust  her  fair 
round  arm  through  a  diamond  hole  in  the  door  of 
the  closet,  and  the  gallant  Major  clasped  the  hand 
of  the  nude  and  buxom  widow,  and  was  married  in 
due  form  by  the  j  oiliest  parson  in  Vermont.  At 
the  close  of  the  ceremony  the  tire-woman  dressed 
the  bride  in  a  complete  wardrobe  which  the  Major 
had  provided  and  caused  to  be  deposited  in  the 
closet  at  the  commencement  of  the  ceremony.  She 
came  out  elegantly  dressed  in  silk,  satin,  and  lace, 
and  there  was  kissing  all  around." 

To  resume  our  story.  On  leaving  Putney,  ac 
companied  by  Justice  Jonathan,  Mary  Almira  re 
turned  to  her  mother's  residence  at  Windsor. 
Nothing  was  communicated  to  Mrs.  Susanna  or 
to  the  relatives  of  the  young  bride  in  regard  to  the 
ceremony  at  Putney.  But  they,  being  aware  of 
the  engagement  to  Jeremiah,  and  having  heard 
rumors  of  the  attentions  of  Roswell,  thought  pro 
priety  demanded  an  early  fulfilment  of  the  prior 


v/ 

<v 

c 


EUGENE  FIELD 


engagement.  On  the  day  of  her  arrival  home,  and 
on  October  21st  and  31st,  Mary  wrote  to  Roswell 
letters,  from  which  we  have  the  assurance  of  the 
Supreme  Court  of  Vermont:  "  It  would  appear 
that  she  entertained  a  strong  affection  for  him  and 
prohably  viewed  him  as  the  husband  with  whom 
she  should  thereafter  live,  although  the  last  letter 
does  not  breathe  the  same  affection  as  the  former 
ones." 

But  the  plot  was  thickening.  On  the  day  after 
her  return  home  Mary  also  wrote  to  Jeremiah 
in  Boston,  and  a  fortnight  had  not  elapsed  before 
she  wrote  again,  "  a  very  pressing  letter,  urging 
him  to  come  immediately  to  Windsor."  Roswell 
learned  from  Mary's  letters  that  her  friends  were 
opposed  to  her  forming  any  connection,  except  with 
Jeremiah,  and  he  made  the  mistake  of  replying 
by  letter  instead  of  appearing  in  person,  urging  his 
claims  and  carrying  off  his  bride. 

Some  time  before  the  1st  of  November  the 
family  of  Mary  had  heard  of  the  ceremony  at  Put 
ney,  for  on  Jeremiah's  arrival,  in  lover-like  com 
pliance  with  her  urgent  message,  he  was  informed 
of  the  situation.  After  a  hurried  council  of  war, 
and  under  legal  advice,  the  following  letter  was 
drafted  and  forwarded  to  Roswell  by  the  hands  of 
Judge  Bikens,  the  family  lawyer: 


HIS  FATHER'S  FIRST  LOVE-AFFAIR     27 

To  MR.  ROSWELL  FIELD: 

Sir:  Moments  of  deep  consideration  and  much  re 
flection  have  at  length  caused  me  to  see  in  its  proper 
light  the  whole  of  my  late  visit  to  Brattleboro.  That 
I  have  been  led  by  you  and  others  to  a  course  of  con 
duct  which  my  own  feelings,  reason,  and  sense  entire 
ly  disapprove,  is  now  very  clear  to  me.  I  therefore 
write  this  to  inform  you  that  I  am  not  willing  on 
any  account  to  see  you  again.  Neither  will  I  by  any 
course  you  can  adopt  be  prevailed  upon  to  view  the 
matter  in  a  different  light  from  what  I  now  do.  I 
leave  you  the  alternative  of  forever  preventing  the 
public  avowal  of  a  disgraceful  transaction,  of  which 

you  yourself  said  you  were  ashamed. 

MARY  A. 

This  veiled  repudiation  of  the  marriage  at  Put 
ney  was  placed  in  Roswell's  hands  by  Judge 
Bikens  and  was  instantly  "  pronounced  an  impu 
dent  forgery."  Being  in  the  dark  as  to  how  far 
Mary's  family  had  been  informed  of  their  mar 
riage,  Koswell  avoided  any  expression  that  might 
reveal  it  to  Judge  Bikens,  and  refused  to  accept  the 
letter  as  a  true  expression  of  his  wife's  feelings 
and  wishes.  He  at  once  wrote  to  her,  urging  that 
their  marriage  should  be  made  public  and  that  thus 
an  end  should  be  put  to  the  suit  of  Jeremiah.  To 
this  Mary  made  reply  that  the  above  letter  "  con 
tained  her  real  sentiments."  Before  this  note 


EUGENE  FIELD 


reached  Fayetteville  Roswell  had  started  for  Wind 
sor.  On  the  way  he  halted  his  horse  at  Putney, 
where  he  learned  that  Mary's  family  was  fully  in 
formed  of  the  marriage  as  performed  by  Justice 
Asa. 

A  very  embarrassing  interview  followed  between 
Roswell  and  the  family  of  his  recalcitrant  bride. 
On  entering  the  room  he  advanced  to  Mary,  and, 
extending  his  hand,  "  asked  her  how  she  did."  But 
she  looked  at  her  mother  and  rejected  his  hand.  A 
similar  advance  to  Mrs.  Susanna  met  with  a  like 
rebuff.  Being  considerately  left  alone  in  the  room 
with  Mary  Almira  by  her  mother  and  brother, 
who,  with  a  sister,  stood  at  the  door  listening,  Ros 
well  had  what  he  was  not  disposed  to  regard  as  a 
private  audience  with  his  legal  wife.  In  answer 
to  his  natural  inquiry  as  to  what  it  all  meant,  Mary 
said  that  since  she  had  come  home  and  thought  it 
all  over  she  found  that  she  did  love  Jeremiah ;  that 
Jeremiah  had  been  very  kind  to  her,  and  she 
thought  she  ought  to  marry  Jeremiah. 

Roswell  inquired  how  she  could  do  that,  as  she 
was  already  married. 

"  Why,"  said  the  fickle  Mary,  "  you  can  give 
up  the  certificate;  let  it  all  go  and  nobody  will 
know  anything  about  it."  After  some  natural 
remonstrances,  Mary  continued:  "Come,  now, 


HIS  FATHERS  FIRST  LOVE-AFFAIR     29 

you've  got  the  certificate  in  your  pocket,  and  you 
can  give  it  up  just  as  well  as  not  and  let  me  marry 
Jeremiah/'  at  the  same  time  holding  out  her  hand 
as  if  for  the  document. 

The  startling  effrontery  of  the  proposal  provoked 
Roswell,  and  he  told  her  that  so  far  as  a  separation 
from  himself  was  concerned  she  should  be  gratified 
to  her  heart's  content,  and  that  while  she  remained 
as  she  was  he  would  not  divulge  the  marriage,  but 
he  warned  her  that  if  she  should  attempt  marriage 
with  another  he  would  publish  the  marriage  at 
Putney  in  every  parish  church  and  newspaper  in 
New  England. 

At  this  point  the  private  interview  was  inter 
rupted  by  the  hasty  entrance  of  Mistress  Susanna, 
who  advanced  in  great  agitation,  as  the  pleadings 
inform  us,  and  said  to  Roswell: 

"  Mister  Field,  why  can't  you  give  up  that  stif- 
fiket  "  (meaning,  as  he  supposed,  certificate)  "  and 
let  things  be  as  if  they  had  never  been? " 

Thereupon  "  Mister  Field  "  proceeded  to  point 
out  to  the  entire  family  of  Mary  Almira,  which 
had  assembled  from  the  doors  and  keyholes  where 
they  had  been  eavesdropping,  "  the  wickedness  and 
folly  of  Mistress  Susanna's  request."  One  of 
Mary's  brothers  admitted  that  RoswelPs  refusal 
"  to  connive  to  the  dishonor  of  his  wife  "  was  cor- 


30  EUGENE  FIELD 

rect  and  honorable,  and  that  he  should  not  be  asked 
to  make  any  such  arrangement. 

Roswell  was  greatly  shocked  and  disgusted  at 
the  appearance,  language,  and  manner  of  Mary 
Almira,  and  he  was  borne  out  in  his  impression  of 
her  character  by  the  admission  of  one  brother  that 
she  was  "  a  giddy,  inconsistent,  unprincipled  girl," 
and  by  that  of  another  that  "  she  was  a  volatile 
coquette,  who  did  not  know  her  own  mind  from 
day  to  day." 

Roswell  remained  in  Windsor  three  days,  but  did 
not  again  see  Mary  Almira;  whereupon,  feeling 
that  nothing  was  to  be  gained  by  exposing  "  him 
self  to  renewed  insults,  he  returned  home  for  a  few 
days." 

It  appears  that  all  this  time  Jeremiah  was  lurk 
ing  in  the  vicinity,  holding  secret  interviews  with 
Mary  and  her  family,  and  "  devising  ways  and 
means  "  for  the  bigamous  marriage  which,  accord 
ing  to  the  belief  of  Roswell,  was  performed  between 
Jeremiah  and  Mary  Almira  somewhere  in  New 
Hampshire  between  the  14th  and  27th  of  No 
vember.  Roswell  M.  Field  never  recognized  the 
legality  of  any  such  ceremony  or  that  Mary  and 
Jeremiah  had  the  lawful  right  to  intermarry  while 
the  marriage  at  Putney  remained  in  full  force  and 
effect.  He  had  reason  to  be  thankful  for  his  escape 


HIS  FATHER'S  FIRST  LOVE-AFFAIR     31 

from  a  union  for  life  with  a  woman  of  such  frivo 
lous  nature  and  easy  indifference  to  the  most  sacred 
obligations  of  human  and  divine  law.  But  he 
would  not  permit  himself  to  become  a  silent  co 
partner  in  what,  to  his  strict  notion  of  the  inviola 
bility  of  the  marriage  contract,  was  one  of  the  most 
heinous  crimes  against  society  and  morals.  He, 
therefore,  took  every  means  in  his  power  to  bring 
obloquy  and  punishment  upon  the  guilty  parties. 
He  instituted  various  proceedings  at  law  to  test  the 
validity  of  the  marriage  at  Putney.  He,  among 
other  measures,  filed  a  petition  in  the  Probate 
Court  to  secure  an  accounting  from  Mistress  Su 
sanna  as  guardian  of  the  estate  of  his  wife  Mary 
Almira.  But  Susanna  avoided  the  issue  by  a 
technical  plea. 

He  brought  an  action  of  ejectment  in  the  name 
of  himself  and  Mary  Almira  to  recover  possession 
of  a  tenement  in  Windsor  of  which  she  was  the 
owner,  and  secured  judgment  without  any  defence 
being  offered. 

He  secured  the  indictment  of  one  of  her  brothers 
in  the  United  States  District  Court  for  having 
opened  one  of  his  letters  to  his  wife. 

He  presented  a  statement  of  the  facts  of  the  ab 
duction  and  bigamous  marriage  of  Mary  Almira  to 
the  Grand  Jury  of  Windsor  County,  and  procured 


32  EUGENE  FIELD 

an  indictment  against  her  two  brothers  and  Mary 
Almira  and  Jeremiah  "  for  conspiracy  to  carry  her 
without  the  state  of  \7"ermont "  to  become  the 
bigamous  wife  of  Jeremiah. 

He  followed  Jeremiah  and  Mary  to  Boston  in 
July,  1833,  and  laid  the  matter  before  the  Grand 
Jury  there,  but  before  any  action  could  be  taken 
Jeremiah  and  Mary  Almira  "  withdrew  from  the 
city  of  Boston,  left  New  England,  took  passage 
at  the  city  of  New  York  in  an  outward  bound  ves 
sel,  and  retired  to  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic." 

Out  of  one  of  the  actions  instituted  in  the  name 
of  Roswell  Field  and  Mary  Almira,  his  wife,  grew 
a  libel  suit,  brought  by  Mistress  Susanna  against 
him,  in  which  the  special  pleas  drawn  and  filed  by 
Roswell  Field  were  pronounced  by  Justice  Story 
"  to  be  masterpieces  of  special  pleading."  Through 
all  these  proceedings  Mr.  Field  disclaimed  all  in 
tention  or  wish  "  to  visit  legal  pains  and  penalties  " 
upon  his  wife,  whom  he  regarded  "  as  the  victim 
and  scapegoat  of  a  wicked  conspiracy." 

Finally,  and  after  the  birth  of  a  child,  Jeremiah 
and  Mary  Almira  were  forced  to  bring  a  suit  for 
the  nullification  of  the  Putney  marriage.  Field 
met  the  complaint  with  a  plea  that  set  out  all  the 
facts.  He  contended  that,  as  the  Putney  mar 
riage  was  between  persons  of  legal  discretion  and 


HIS  FATHER'S  FIRST  LOVE-AFFAIR     33 

consent,  there  could  be  no  condition  that  would 
render  it  voidable  at  the  election  of  either.  Every 
law  and  precedent  was  in  favor  of  the  inviolability 
of  the  Putney  marriage,  and  yet  so  powerful  were 
the  family  influences  and  so  distressing  would  have 
been  the  results  of  a  finding  in  his  favor,  that  the 
lower  court  preferred  to  disregard  precedents  and 
law  rather  than  illegitimatize  the  innocent  chil 
dren  of  Jeremiah  and  Mary.  The  same  view  was 
taken  by  the  higher  court,  which  absolved  Mary 
of  "  being  fully  acquainted  with  the  legal  conse 
quences  of  a  solemnization  of  marriage."  The 
court  itself  was  forced  to  regard  the  ceremony  as 
"  a  promise  or  engagement  to  marry,"  rather  than 
a  completed  and  sacred  contract.  The  opinion  as 
rendered  is  one  long  apology  for  declaring  the 
Putney  marriage  invalid,  in  order  to  save  Mary 
Almira  from  the  crime  of  bigamy  and  her  children 
from  being  the  offspring  of  an  illicit  union. 

The  conclusion  of  the  opinion  reflects  the  spirit 
in  which  it  was  rendered.  "  It  may  be  proper  to 
add,"  said  the  court,  "  that  we  are  not  disposed  to 
animadvert  on  the  conduct  of  the  parties  or  of 
their  respective  friends  and  connections,  nor  to  pro 
nounce  any  opinion  further  than  is  required  to 
show  the  grounds  of  our  determination.  The  im 
mediate  parties  may  find  some  excuse  or  palliation 
VOL.  I.— 3 


34  EUGENE  FIELD 

in  the  thoughtlessness  of  youth,  the  strength  of 
affection,  the  pangs  of  disappointment  and  blighted 
hopes,  in  versatility  of  feeling  to  which  all  are  sub 
ject,  and  in  constitutional  temperament.  The  con 
duct  of  the  friends  of  either  is  not  to  be  judged  of 
nor  censured  in  consequence  of  the  unfortunate 
results  which  have  attended  this  truly  unfortunate 
case.  In  judging  of  the  past  transactions  of  others, 
which  have  terminated  either  favorably  or  unfavor 
ably,  we  are  apt  to  say  that  a  different  course  was 
required  and  would  have  produced  a  different  effect. 
But  who  can  say  what  would  have  been  the  inev 
itable  consequences  of  a  different  line  of  conduct 
by  the  friends  of  either  party?  The  infatuation 
and  the  determination  of  the  parties  to  pursue  that 
course  which  was  most  agreeable  to  their  own  feel 
ings  and  views,  placed  their  friends  and  acquaint 
ances  in  a  very  unpleasant  situation,  and  it  would 
be  wrong  for  us  now  to  say  that  they  were  not 
actuated  by  good  motives,  and  did  not  pursue  that 
line  of  conduct  which  they  thought  at  the  time 
duty  dictated.  We  inquire  not  as  to  the  conduct 
of  others,  we  censure  them  not,  nor  do  we  say  any 
thing  as  to  the  parties  before  us,  except  what  has 
been  thought  necessary  in  deciding  the  case." 

The  decree  of  nullification  was  affirmed  in  July, 
1839,  and  before  the  close  of  the  year  Roswell  M. 


HIS  FATHER'S  FIRST  LOVE-AFFAIR     35 

Field  had  shaken  the  dust  of  Vermont  from  his 
feet  and  taken  up  his  residence  in  St.  Louis.  Thus 
Vermont  lost  the  most  brilliant  young  advocate  of 
his  day,  and  Missouri  gained  the  lawyer  who  was 
to  adorn  its  bar  and  institute  the  proceedings  for 
the  manumission  of  Dred  Scott,  the  slave,  whose 
case  defined  the  issues  of  our  Civil  AVar. 


CHAPTER   III 

THE    DRED   SCOTT   CASE 

Vermont's  loss  was  Missouri's  gain.  The  young 
lawyer,  who  had  been  admitted  to  the  bar  of  his 
native  state  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  was  fully 
equipped  to  match  his  learning,  wit,  and  persua 
sive  manners  against  such  men  as  Benton,  Gamble, 
an<l  Bates,  who  were  the  leaders  of  the  Missouri 
l>jtr  when,  in  1839,  Roswell  Field  took  up  his  resi 
dence  in  St.  Louis.  Now  it  was  that  his  familiarity 
and  facility  with  French,  German,  and  Spanish 
stood  him  in  good  stead  and,  combined  with  his 
solid  legal  attainments,  speedily  won  for  him  the 
rank  «»f  the  ablest  lawyer  in  his  adopted  state. 

15i it  Roswell  Field  brought  from  Vermont  some 
thing  more  than  an  exceptional  legal  equipment 
and  the  familiarity  with  the  languages  that  is 
ary  t<>  a  mastery  of  the  intricate  old  Spanish 
and  French  claims  which  were  plastered  over 
Missouri  in  those  early  days.  He  had  inherited 
through  his  mother,  from  her  grim  old  Puritan 
ancestors,  the  positive  opinions  and  unquenchable 

36 


TIIK  DRED  SCOTT  CASK  37 

sense  of  duty  that  constitute  the  far  famed  N'ew 
England  conscience.  He  was  born  with  a  repug 
nance  to  slavery,  whet  her  of  the  will  or  of  the  body, 
and  grew  to  manhood  in  the  days  when  the  ques 
tion  of  the  extension  of  negro  slavery  to  the  states 
and  territories  was  the  subject  of  fierce  debate 
throughout  the  union.  He  had  fixed  convict  ions 
on  the  subject  when  he  left  New  fane,  and  he  car 
ried  them  with  him  to  the  farther  bank  of  the 
Mississippi. 

It  is  to  the  uncompromising  New  England  con 
science  of  Roswell  Field  that  his  countrymen  owe 
the  institution  of  the  proceedings  that  finally  de 
veloped  into  the  Dred  Scott  case,  in  which  tho 
question  of  the  legal  status  of  a  negro  was  passed 
upon  by  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States. 
This  is  very  properly  regarded  as  the  most  cele 
brated  of  the  many  important  cases  adjudicated 
by  our  highest  tribunal,  for  not  only  did  it  settle 
the  status  of  Dred  Scott  temporarily,  but  the  de 
cision  handed  down  by  Chief  Justice  Taney  is  the 
great  classic  of  a  great  bench.  It  denied  the  legal 
existence  of  the  African  race  as  persons  in  Amer 
ican  society  and  in  constitutional  law,  and  also 
denied  the  supremacy  of  Congress  over  the  terri 
tories  and  the  constitutionality  of  the  "  Missouri 
Compromise."  Eour  years  of  civil  war  were  nee- 


EUGENE  FIELD 


essary  to  overrule  this  sweeping  opinion  of  Chief 
Justice  Taney's,  which  is  still  referred  to  with  awe 
and  veneration  by  a  large  minority,  if  not  by  a 
majority,  of  the  legal  profession. 

To  Roswell  Field  belongs  the  honor  of  institut 
ing  the  original  action  for  Dred  Scott,  without  fee 
or  expectation  of  compensation.  The  details  of 
this  celebrated  case,  after  it  got  into  the  United 
States  courts,  are  a  part  of  the  history  of  our  coun 
try.  What  I  am  about  to  relate  is  scarcely  known 
outside  of  the  old  Court  House  and  Hall  of  Rec 
ords  in  St.  Louis. 

Dred  Scott  was  a  negro  slave  of  Dr.  Emerson, 
a  surgeon  in  the  United  States  Army,  then  sta 
tioned  in  Missouri.  Dr.  Emerson  took  Scott  with 
him  when,  in  1834,  he  moved  to  Illinois,  a  free 
state,  and  subsequently  to  Fort  Snelling,  Wis. 
This  territory,  being  north  of  36  degrees  and  30 
minutes,  was  free  soil  under  the  Missouri  Com 
promise  of  1820.  At  Fort  Snelling,  Scott  mar 
ried  a  colored  woman  who  had  also  been  taken  as 
a  slave  from  Missouri.  When  Dr.  Emerson  re 
turned  to  Missouri  he  brought  Dred  Scott,  his 
wife,  and  child  with  him.  The  case  came  to  the 
attention  of  Roswell  Field,  and  at  once  enlisted  all 
his  human  sympathy  and  great  legal  ability.  His 
first  petition  to  the  Circuit  Court  for  the  County 


THE  DEED  SCOTT  CASE  39 

of  St.  Louis  is  too  important  and  unique  a  human 
document  not  to  be  preserved  in  full.    It  reads: 

Your  petitioner,  a  man  of  color,  respectfully  repre 
sents  that  sometime  in  the  year  1835  your  petitioner 
was  purchased  as  a  slave  by  one  John  Emerson,  since 
deceased,  who  afterwards,  to  wit,  about  the  year  1836 
or  1839,  conveyed  your  petitioner  from  the  State  of 
Missouri  to  Fort  Snelling,  a  fort  then  occupied  by 
the  troops  of  the  United  States,  and  under  the  juris 
diction  of  the  United  States,  situated  in  the  territory 
ceded  by  France  to  the  United  States  under  the  name 
of  Louisiana,  lying  North  of  36  degrees  and  30 
minutes  North  latitude,  not  included  within  the  lim 
its  of  the  State  of  Missouri;  and  resided  and  con 
tinued  to  reside  at  said  Fort  Snelling  for  upwards  of 
one  year,  and  holding  your  petitioner  in  slavery  at 
said  Fort  during  all  that  time;  in  violation  of  the 
act  of  Congress  of  March  6th,  1820,  entitled  "  An 
act  to  authorize  the  people  of  Missouri  Territory  to 
form  a  constitution  and  State  government  and  for 
the  admission  of  such  state  into  the  Union  on  an 
equal  footing  with  the  original  states  and  to  prohibit 
slavery  in  certain  territories." 

Your  petitioner  avers  that  said  Emerson  has  since 
departed  this  life,  leaving  a  widow,  Irene  Emerson, 
and  an  infant  child  whose  name  is  unknown  to  your 
petitioner,  and  that  one  Alexander  Sandford  has  ad 
ministered  upon  the  estate  of  said  Emerson  and  that 


40  EUGENE  FIELD 

your  petitioner  is  now  unlawfully  held  by  said  Sand- 
ford  as  said  Administrator  and  said  Irene  Emerson 
who  claims  your  petitioner  as  part  of  the  estate  of 
said  Emerson  and  by  one  said  Samuel  Eussell. 

Your  petitioner  therefore  prays  your  Honorable 
Court  to  grant  him  leave  to  sue  as  a  free  person  in 
order  to  establish  his  right  to  freedom  and  that  the 
necessary  orders  may  be  made  in  the  premises. 

(Signed)  DRED  SCOTT. 

Sworn  to  and  subscribed  \  his 

before  me  this  1st  day  >•  DRED    X    SCOTT 

July,  1847,  )  mark 

PETER  W.  JOHNSTONE,  J.  P. 

Upon  reading  the  above  petition  this  day,  it  being 
the  opinion  of  the  Judge  of  the  Circuit  Court  that 
the  said  petition  contains  sufficient  matter  to  author 
ize  the  commencement  of  a  suit  for  his  freedom,  it  is 
hereby  ordered  that  the  said  petitioner,  Dred  Scott, 
be  allowed  to  sue,  on  giving  security  satisfactory  to 
the  Clerk  of  the  Circuit  Court  for  all  costs  that  may 
be  adjudged  against  him,  and  that  he  have  reasonable 
liberty  to  attend  his  counsel  and  the  Court  as  occa 
sion  may  require,  and  that  he  be  not  subjected  to  any 
severity  on  account  of  this  application  for  his  free 
dom  and  that  he  be  not  removed  out  of  the  jurisdic 
tion  of  the  Court. 

A.  HAMILTON, 

Judge  of  the  St.  Louis  Circuit  Court, 

8th  Judicial  Circuit,  Mo. 
July  2d,  1847. 


THE  DEED  SCOTT  CASE  41 

Having  obtained  the  desired  leave  to  sue  from 
Judge  Alexander  Hamilton,  Eoswell  Field  pro 
cured  Joseph  Charless,  one  of  the  leading  citizens 
of  St.  Louis,  to  execute  the  necessary  bond  for 
costs.  Then  he  lost  no  time  in  filing  the  follow 
ing  complaint,  which  I  have  no  doubt  Eugene 
Field  would  have  mortgaged  many  weeks'  salary  to 
number  among  his  most  precious  possessions.  He 
would  have  cherished  it  above  the  Gladstone  axe, 
for,  while  that  felled  mighty  oaks,  this  brief  docu 
ment  laid  the  axe  at  the  root  of  a  deadly  upas-tree 
which  threatened  the  destruction  of  a  free  republic. 
I  offer  no  apology  for  its  insertion  here: 

STATE  OF  MISSOURI,   ) 

>   QQ 

COUNTY  OF  ST.  Louis  \ 

CIRCUIT  COURT  OF  ST.  Louis, 
ST.  Louis  COUNTY.  November  Term,  1847. 
Dred  Scott,  a  man  of  color,  by  his  attorneys,  plain 
tiff  in  this  suit,  complains  of  Alexander  Sandford  as 
administrator  of  the  estate  of  John  Emerson  deceased, 
Irene  Emerson  and  Samuel  Russell,  defendants  of  a 
plea  of  trespass.  For  that  the  said  defendants  here 
tofore,  to  wit  on  the  1st  day  of  July  in  the  year  1846 
at  to  wit  the  County  of  St.  Louis  aforesaid  with  force 
and  arms  assaulted  the  said  plaintiff  and  then  and 
there,  beat,  bruised,  and  ill-treated  him  and  then  and 
there  imprisoned  and  kept  and  detained  him  in  prison 
there  without  any  reasonable  or  probable  cause  what- 


42  EUGENE  FIELD 

soever,  for  a  long  time,  to  wit  for  the  space  of  one 
year,  then  next  following,  contrary  to  law  and  against 
the  will  of  the  said  plaintiff;  and  the  said  plaintiff 
avers  that  before  and  at  the  time  of  the  committing 
of  the  grievances  aforesaid,  he  the  said  plaintiff  was 
then  and  there  and  still  is  a  free  person,  and  that 
the  said  defendants  held  and  still  hold  him  in  slavery, 
and  other  wrongs  to  the  said  plaintiff  then  and  there 
did  against  the  peace  of  the  State  of  Missouri  to  the 
damage  of  the  said  plaintiff  in  the  sum  of  ($300) 
Three  Hundred  Dollars,  and  therefore  he  sues. 

FIELD  &  HALL, 
Attys.  for  Plff. 

With  this  brief  and  bald  complaint  for  trespass 
to  the  person  and  false  imprisonment  was  begun  a 
long  and  stubbornly  fought  litigation,  extending 
over  ten  years,  and  which  was  destined  to  end  in 
Chief  Justice  Taney  declaring: 

They  [negroes]  had  for  more  than  a  century  be 
fore  [the  Declaration  of  Independence]  been  regard 
ed  as  beings  of  an  inferior  order,  and  altogether 
unfit  to  associate  with  the  white  race,  either  in  social 
or  political  relations;  and  so  far  inferior  that  they 
had  no  rights  which  the  white  man  was  bound  to  re 
spect  ;  and  that  the  negro  might  justly  and  lawfully 
be  reduced  to  slavery  for  his  benefit.  He  was  bought 
and  sold  and  treated  as  an  ordinary  article  of  mer- 


THE  DEED  SCOTT  CASE  43 

chandise  and  traffic  whenever  a  profit  could  be  made 
by  it. 

From  the  beginning  of  his  connection  with  this 
case  Roswell  Field  contended  for  the  broad  prin 
ciple  enunciated  by  Lord  Mansfield  that  "  Slavery 
is  so  odious  that  nothing  can  be  suffered  to  sup 
port  it  but  positive  law."  He  consented  to  a  dis 
continuance  of  the  original  action  because  of  the 
variance  of  the  complaint  from  the  subsequently 
discovered  facts.  In  the  second  suit  Dred  Scott 
and  his  family  were  declared  free  by  the  local 
court,  but  the  judgment  was  reversed  on  appeal  to 
the  Supreme  Court  of  the  state.  Judge  Gamble, 
in  dissenting  from  the  opinion  of  the  majority  of 
the  Court,  held  that  "  In  Missouri  it  has  been  recog 
nized  from  the  beginning  of  the  Government  as  a 
correct  position  in  law  that  a  master  who  takes  his 
slave  to  reside  in  a  state  or  territory  where  slavery 
is  prohibited  thereby  emancipates  his  slave." 

The  subsequent  sale  of  Dred  Scott  to  a  citizen 
of  ISTew  York  named  Sandford  afforded  Roswell 
Field  the  opportunity  to  renew  the  fight  for  Scott's 
freedom  in  the  United  States  Circuit  Court  at  St. 
Louis.  The  case  was  tried  in  May,  1854,  and  it 
was  again  declared  that  Scott  and  his  family  "  were 
negro  slaves,  the  lawful  property  of  Sandford." 
Roswell  Field  immediately  appealed  by  writ  of 


44  EUGENE  FIELD 

error  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States, 
where  the  appeal  was  first  argued  early  in  1856, 
and  a  second  time  in  December  of  the  same  year. 
Mr.  Field's  connection  with  the  case  ended  when 
he  prepared  the  papers  on  appeal  and  sent  his  brief 
to  Montgomery  Blair,  with  whom  was  associated 
for  Scott  on  the  second  hearing  George  Ticknor 
Curtis.  Both  of  these  eminent  lawyers  emulated 
the  example  of  Eugene  Field's  father,  who  for 
nearly  nine  years  had  devoted  a  large  share  of  his 
time  and  energy  to  the  fight  of  a  penniless  negro 
slave  for  liberty. 

Looking  back  now  it  is  almost  impossible  to 
realize  how  the  issue  in  this  case  stirred  the  nation 
to  its  depth.  It  was  first  argued  while  the  country 
was  in  the  throes  of  the  fierce  Fremont-Buchanan 
campaign,  and  it  was  believed  that  the  second 
hearing  was  ordered  by  a  pro-slavery  court  after 
Buchanan's  election,  to  permit  more  time  in  which 
to  formulate  the  extraordinary  decision  at  which 
the  majority  of  the  court  arrived.  The  decision 
was  political  rather  than  judicial,  and  challenged 
the  attention  of  the  people  beyond  any  act  of  the 
Supreme  Court  before  or  since. 

The  Civil  War  was  virtually  an  appeal  from  the 
judgment  of  Chief  Justice  Taney  and  his  associates 
to  the  God  of  Battles. 


THE  DRED  SCOTT  CASE  45 

It  must  not  be  thought  that  a  single  case,  al 
though  the  most  celebrated  in  the  annals  of  Amer 
ican  jurisprudence,  was  Roswell  Field's  sole  claim 
to  the  title  of  leader  of  the  Missouri  bar  during 
his  lifetime.  The  records  of  the  Superior  Court 
of  that  state  bear  interesting  and  convincing  testi 
mony  to  the  exceptional  brilliancy  of  Eugene 
Field's  father,  while  the  tributes  to  his  memory, 
by  his  brothers  at  the  bar  and  the  judges  before 
whom  he  appeared,  prove  that  in  all  the  relations 
of  life  he  fulfilled  the  promise  of  ability  and  genius 
given  in  his  graduation  from  college  at  an  age 
when  most  boys  are  entering  a  preparatory  school. 

Before  dismissing  Koswell  Field  to  take  up  the 
story  of  his  son's  career,  I  wish  to  quote  a  few 
passages  from  a  brief  memoir  which  is  preserved 
in  the  history  of  Kewfane,  as  throwing  direct 
hereditary  light  on  the  peculiar  character,  fascinat 
ing  personality,  and  entertaining  genius  of  his  son. 

As  I  may  hereafter  have  occasion  to  refer  to 
Eugene  Field's  political  convictions,  let  us  begin 
these  quotations  with  one  as  to  his  father's  politics: 

"  In  the  dark  days  of  the  Kebellion,  during  the 
years  1861  and  1862,  when  the  friends  of  the 
Union  in  St.  Louis  and  Missouri  felt  that  they 
were  in  imminent  danger  of  being  drawn  from 
their  homes  and  of  having  their  estates  confiscated 


46  EUGENE  FIELD 

by  rebels  and  traitors,  General  Lyon,  General  Blair, 
and  R.  M.  Field  were  among  the  calm,  loyal,  and 
patriotic  men  who  influenced  public  action  and 
saved  the  city  and  state." 

Those  of  my  readers  who  knew  the  son  will 
recognize  much  that  captivated  them  in  this  de 
scription  of  the  father: 

"  In  his  social  relations  he  was  a  genial  and 
entertaining  companion,  unsurpassed  in  conversa 
tional  powers,  delighting  in  witty  and  sarcastic 
observations  and  epigrammatic  sentences.  He  was 
elegant  in  his  manners  and  bland  and  refined  in 
his  deportment.  He  was  a  skilful  musician  and 
passionately  fond  of  children,  and  it  was  his  wont 
in  early  life  to  gather  them  in  groups  about  him 
and  beguile  them  by  the  hour  with  the  music  of 
the  flute  or  violin.  He  was  actually  devoid  of  all 
ambition  for  power  and  place,  and  uniformly  de 
clined  all  offers  of  advancement  to  the  highest 
judicial  honors  of  the  state." 

From  the  lips  of  Samuel  Knox,  of  the  St.  Louis 
bar,  we  have  this  testimony  as  to  the  remarkable 
extent  and  versatility  of  Roswell  M.  Field's  talents : 

"  Uniting  great  industry  and  acquirements  with 
the  most  brilliant  wit  and  genius,  well  and  accu 
rately  informed  on  all  subjects,  both  in  science  and 
art;  endowed  with  a  memory  that  retained  what- 


CHARLES  KELLOGG  FIELD. 


THE  DEED  SCOTT  CASE  47 

ever  it  received,  with  quick  and  clear  perceptions, 
the  choicest,  most  felicitous,  and  forcible  language 
in  which  to  clothe  his  thoughts,  no  one  could  doubt 
his  meaning  or  withhold  the  tribute  of  wonder  at 
his  power." 

To  clinch  the  evidence  as  to  the  source  from 
which  Eugene  Field  derived  pretty  nearly  every 
thing  that  won  for  him  such  meed  of  fame  as  fell 
to  his  lot,  let  me  quote  from  an  interview  with 
Melvin  L.  Gray,  his  guardian  and  foster-father, 
printed  in  the  Helena  Independent,  September  6th, 
1895,  shortly  before  his  idol's  death: 

"  If  I  had  never  believed  in  the  influence  of 
heredity  before,  I  would  now,  after  having  known 
Eugene  Field  and  his  father  before  him.  The 
father  was  a  lawyer  of  wonderful  ability,  but  he 
was  particularly  distinguished  by  his  keen  wit,  his 
intense  appreciation  of  the  humorous  side  of  life, 
and  his  fondness  for  rare  first  editions  of  literary 
works.  He  was  a  profound  student,  and  found 
much  time  to  cultivate  the  fairer  qualities  that 
some  lawyers  neglect  in  the  busy  round  of  their 
profession.  Eugene  is  not  a  lawyer,  but  he  has 
his  father's  tastes,  his  father's  keen  wit,  and  much 
of  the  same  fineness  of  character  and  literary 
ability. 

"  Another  point  of  similarity  is  found  in  Eu- 


THE  DEED  SCOTT  CASE  47 

ever  it  received,  with  quick  and  clear  perceptions, 
the  choicest,  most  felicitous,  and  forcible  language 
in  which  to  clothe  his  thoughts,  no  one  could  doubt 
his  meaning  or  withhold  the  tribute  of  wonder  at 
his  power." 

To  clinch  the  evidence  as  to  the  source  from 
which  Eugene  Field  derived  pretty  nearly  every 
thing  that  won  for  him  such  meed  of  fame  as  fell 
to  his  lot,  let  me  quote  from  an  interview  with 
Melvin  L.  Gray,  his  guardian  and  foster-father, 
printed  in  the  Helena  Independent,  September  6th, 
1895,  shortly  before  his  idol's  death: 

"  If  I  had  never  believed  in  the  influence  of 
heredity  before,  I  would  now,  after  having  known 
Eugene  Field  and  his  father  before  him.  The 
father  was  a  lawyer  of  wonderful  ability,  but  he 
was  particularly  distinguished  by  his  keen  wit,  his 
intense  appreciation  of  the  humorous  side  of  life, 
and  his  fondness  for  rare  first  editions  of  literary 
works.  He  was  a  profound  student,  and  found 
much  time  to  cultivate  the  fairer  qualities  that 
some  lawyers  neglect  in  the  busy  round  of  their 
profession.  Eugene  is  not  a  lawyer,  but  he  has 
his  father's  tastes,  his  father's  keen  wit,  and  much 
of  the  same  fineness  of  character  and  literary 
ability. 

"  Another  point  of  similarity  is  found  in  Eu- 


48  EUGENE  FIELD 

gene's  neglect  of  financial  matters.  In  his  youth 
the  father  was  equally  negligent,  although  he  did 
subsequently  grow  more  thrifty,  and  when  he  died 
left  the  boys  a  little  patrimony.  As  executor  I 
apportioned  the  money  as  directed.  Both  the  boys 
spent  it  freely  while  it  lasted." 

I  find  no  trace  in  the  father  of  what,  all 
through  life,  was  the  pre-eminent  characteristic  of 
Eugene,  the  inveterate  painstaking,  mirth-compell 
ing  practical-joker.  But  in  Brattleboro,  ]STewfane, 
and  throughout  Vermont  everybody  says,  "  That's 
jest  like  his  uncle  Charles  Kellogg.  There  was 
never  such  another  for  jest  foolin'.  He'd  rather 
play  a  hoax  on  the  parson  that  would  embarrass 
him  in  the  face  of  his  congregation  than  eat." 
When  they  were  boys,  it  was  Charles  that  led  Ros- 
well  into  all  kinds  of  mischief.  "  Uncle  Charles 
Kellogg  " — they  always  give  him  the  benefit  of 
the  second  name  in  Brattleboro — had  a  reputation 
for  wit  and  never-ending  badinage  throughout  the 
neighborhood  that  still  survives  and  leaves  no  room 
to  question  whence  Eugene  inherited  his  unquench 
able  passion  "  for  jest  foolin'." 


CHAPTER  IV 
BIRTH  AND   EARLY   YOUTH 

For  nine  years  after  moving  to  St.  Louis  Ms 
profession  was  the  sole  mistress  of  Roswell  Field's 
"  laborious  days "  and  bachelor  nights.  Almost 
coincident  with  his  becoming  interested  in  the  case 
of  the  slave,  Dred  Scott,  he  met,  and  more  to  the 
purpose  of  this  narrative,  became  interested  in  Miss 
Frances  Reed,  then  of  St.  Louis,  but  whose  parents 
hailed  from  Windham  County,  Vermont.  Wheth 
er  their  common  nativity,  or  the  fact  that  her  father 
was  a  professional  musician,  first  brought  them  to 
gether,  the  memory  of  St.  Louis  does  not  disclose. 
Miss  Reed  was  a  young  woman  of  unusual  personal 
charm.  All  accounts  agree  that  she  was  quiet  and 
refined  in  her  ways  and  yet  possessed  that  firmness 
of  mind  that  is  the  salt  of  a  quiet  nature.  They 
were  married  in  May,  1848,  and  in  the  love  and 
domestic  happiness  of  his  mature  manhood,  Ros- 
well  Field  found  the  sweet  balm  for  the  bitterness 
that  followed  from  his  youthful  romance  and  the 
nullification  of  the  Putney  marriage. 

Of  this  union  six  children  were  born  in  the  eight 
49 


50  EUGENE  FIELD 

years  of  Mrs.  Field's  wedded  life,  only  two  of  whom, 
Eugene,  the  second,  and  Roswell,  survived  baby 
hood.  There  is  some  uncertainty  as  to  the  exact 
date  and  location  of  Eugene's  birth.  When  his 
father  was  married  he  took  his  bride  home  to  a 
house  on  Collins  Street,  which,  under  Time's  trans 
muting  and  ironical  fingers,  has  since  become  a 
noisy  boiler-shop.  There  their  first  child  was  born. 
Subsequently  they  moved  to  the  house,  No.  634 
South  Fifth  Street  (now  Broadway),  which  is  one 
in  the  middle  of  a  block  of  houses  pointed  out  in  St. 
Louis  as  the  birthplace  of  Eugene  Field.  Although 
Eugene  himself  went  with  the  photographer  and 
pointed  out  the  house,  his  brother  Roswell  strenu 
ously  maintains  that  Eugene  was  born  before  the 
family  moved  to  the  Walsh  row,  so-called,  and  that 
to  the  boiler-shop  belongs  the  honor  of  having  heard 
the  first  lullabies  that  greeted  the  ears  of  their  great 
est  master. 

Roswell's  view  receives  negative  corroboration 
from  the  testimony  of  Mrs.  Temperance  Moon,  of 
Farmington,  Utah,  who  for  a  time  lived  in  their 
father's  family.  Under  date  of  February  25th, 
1901,  Mrs.  Moon  wrote  to  me: 

I  can  give  you  very  little  information  in  regard 
to  Mr.  Field's  place  of  birth.  It  was  on  Third  Street. 
I  do  not  remember  the  names  of  the  cross  streets,  I 


EUGENE  FIELD'S  MOTHER. 

From  a  daguerreotype  taken  a  year  or  two  before  his  birth 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YOUTH  51 

think  Cherry  was  one.  Eugene  was  four  months  old 
when  I  went  to  live  with  them.  I  stayed  until  the 
family  went  east  for  the  summer.  Mrs.  Field's  sister 
was  living  with  them.  Her  name  was  Miss  Arabella 
Reed.  When  they  came  back  Roswell  was  a  few 
months  old.  They  went  to  live  on  Fifth  Street  in  a 
three-story  house.  Mrs.  Field  sent  word  for  me  to 
come  and  take  care  of  Eugene.  I  was  twelve  years 
old.  She  gave  me  full  charge  of  him.  I  was  very 
proud  of  the  charge.  He  was  a  noble  child.  I  loved 
him  as  a  dear  brother.  He  took  great  delight  in  hear 
ing  me  read  any  kind  of  children's  stories  and  fairy 
tales.  His  mother  was  a  lovely  woman.  I  have  a 
book  and  a  picture  Eugene  sent  to  me.  The  pict 
ure  is  of  him  and  his  mother  when  he  was  only  six 
months  old. 

Equal  and  illusive  doubt  hangs  over  the  date  of 
Eugene  Field's  birth.  Was  it  September  2d  or  3d, 
1850?  In  his  "  Auto- Analysis,"  of  which  we  shall 
hear  more  further  along,  Field  himself  gives  prefer 
ence  to  the  latter  figure.  But  as  his  preference 
more  than  half  the  time  went  by  the  rule  of  con 
traries,  that  would  be  prima-facie  evidence  that  he 
was  born  on  the  earlier  date.  There  again  the 
testimony  of  the  younger  brother  is  to  the  effect 
that  in  their  youth  the  anniversary  of  Eugene's 
birth  was  held  to  be  September  2d.  Their  father 
said  he  could  not  reconcile  his  mind  to  the  thought 


52  EUGENE  FIELD 

that  one  of  his  children  was  born  on  so  memorable 
an  anniversary  as  September  3d,  the  day  of  Crom 
well's  death.  I  have  little  doubt  that  Field  him 
self  fostered  the  irrepressible  conflict  of  dates,  on 
the  theory  that  two  birthdays  a  year  afforded  a 
double  opportunity  to  playfully  remind  his  friends 
of  the  pleasing  duty  of  an  interchange  of  tokens  on 
such  anniversaries.  If  they  forgot  September  2d, 
he  could  jog  their  memories  that  Cromwell's  death 
on  September  3d,  two  centuries  before,  was  no 
excuse  for  ignoring  his  birth  on  September  3d, 
1850. 

Whether  born  on  the  anniversary  of  Cromwell's 
death  or  in  the  boiler-shop,  no  stories  of  the  youth 
ful  precocity  of  Eugene  Field  survive  to  entertain 
us  or  to  suggest  that  he  gave  early  indication  of  the 
possession  either  of  unusual  talent  or  of  that  unique 
personality  that  were  to  distinguish  him  from  the 
thousands  born  every  day. 

But  Eugene  and  Koswell,  Jr.,  were  not  long  to 
know  the  watchful  tenderness  and  ambitious  solici 
tude  of  that  "  mother  love  "  of  which  the  elder 
has  so  sweetly  sung.  In  November,  1856,  when 
Eugene  was  six  years  old,  their  mother  died  and 
their  father's  thoughts  instinctively  turned  to  his 
sister,  hoping  to  find  with  her,  amid  scenes  familiar 
to  his  own  youth,  a  home  and  affectionate  care  for 


BIRTH  AND  EAELY  YOUTH  53 

his  motherless  boys.  How  the  early  loss  of  his 
mother  affected  the  life  of  Eugene  Field  it  is  im 
possible  to  tell.  Not  until  the  boy  of  six  whom 
she  left  had  become  a  man  of  forty  did  he  attempt 
to  pay  a  tribute  of  filial  love  to  her  memory.  The 
following  lines,  under  the  simple  title,  "  To  My 
Mother/7  first  appeared  in  his  "  Sharps  and  Flats  " 
column,  October  25th,  1890.  It  was  reprinted  in 
his  "  Second  Book  of  Verse."  The  opening  lines 
summon  up  a  tender  picture  of  a  "  grace  that  is 
dead": 

How  fair  you  are,  my  mother! 

Ah,  though  'tis  many  a  year 

Since  you  were  here, 

Still  do  I  see  your  beauteous  face 

And  with  the  glow 

Of  your  dark  eyes  cometh  a  grace 

Of  long  ago. 

The  Mistress  French  of  our  earlier  acquaintance, 
who  was  a  widow  when  we  last  knew  her  in  New- 
fane,  had  married  again  and,  as  Mistress  Thomas 
Jones,  had  moved  with  her  daughter,  Mary  Field 
French,  to  Amherst,  Mass.  To  the  home  of  Mrs. 
Jones  and  the  loving  care  of  Miss  French,  Eugene 
and  Roswell,  Jr.,  were  entrusted.  Miss  French 
was  at  this  time  a  young  woman,  a  spinster — Eu- 


54  EUGENE  FIELD 

gene  delighted  to  call  her — of  about  thirty  years. 
His  old  Munson  tutor  thus  describes  her: 

"  Mary  Field  French,  a  daughter  of  Mrs.  Jones 
by  her  first  husband,  was  a  lady  of  strong  mind,  and 
much  culture,  with  a  sound  judgment  and  decision 
of  character  and  very  gracious  manners.  She  was 
always  sociable  and  agreeable  and  so  admirably 
adapted  to  the  charge  of  the  two  brothers."  They 
retained  through  manhood  the  warmest  affection 
for  this  cousin-mother,  and  never  wearied  in  show 
ing  toward  her  the  grateful  devotion  of  loyal  sons. 

"  Here,"  continues  Dr.  Tufts,  "  in  this  charm 
ing  home,  under  the  best  of  New  England  influ 
ences  and  religious  instruction,  with  nothing  harsh 
or  repulsive,  the  boys  could  not  have  found  a  more 
congenial  home.  Indeed,  few  mothers  are  able  or 
even  capable  of  doing  so  much  for  their  own  chil 
dren  as  Miss  French  did  for  these  two  brothers, 
watching  over  them  incessantly,  yet  not  spoiling 
them  by  weak  indulgence  or  repelling  them  by 
harsh  discipline." 

Here  it  was  that  Eugene  was  brought  up  in  the 
"  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord,"  as  he  would 
often  declare  with  a  mock  severity  of  tone,  that  left 
a  mixed  impression  as  to  the  beneficence  of  the 
nurture  and  the  abiding  quality  of  the  admonition. 
Here  he  spent  his  school  days,  not  in  acquiring  a 


EUGENE  FIELD'S  COUSINS,    MARY   FIELD  FRENCH   AND  HER 
YOUNGER  HALF  SISTER,  AUGUSTA  JONES. 

From  a  daguerreotype  taken  before  Eugene  and  Roswell  became  members  of  Miss 
French' s  family  in  Ainherst,  on  the  death  of  their  mother. 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YOUTH  55 

broad  or  deep  basis  for  future  scholarship,  but  in 
studying  the  ways  and  whims  of  womankind,  in 
practising  the  subtile  arts  whereby  the  boy  of  from 
six  to  fifteen  attains  a  tyrannous  mastery  over  the 
hearts  of  a  feminine  household^  and  in  securing 
the  leadership  among  the  daring  spirits  of  his  own 
age  and  sex,  for  whom  he  was  early  able  to  furnish 
a  continuous  programme  of  entertainment,  advent 
ure,  and  mischief. 

Of  this  period  of  Eugene  Field's  life  we  get  the 
truest  glimpse  through  the  eyes  of  his  brother,  who 
has  written  appreciatively  of  their  boyhood  spent 
in  Amherst.  "  His  boyhood,"  writes  Roswell, 
"  was  similar  to  that  of  other  boys  brought  up  with 
the  best  surroundings  in  a  Massachusetts  village, 
where  the  college  atmosphere  prevailed.  He  had 
his  boyish  pleasures  and  his  trials,  his  share  of  that 
queer  mixture  of  nineteenth  century  worldliness 
and  almost  austere  Puritanism,  which  is  yet  char 
acteristic  of  many  New  England  families." 

If  the  reader  wishes  to  know  more  of  the  New 
England  atmosphere,  in  which  Eugene  Field  was 
permitted  to  have  pretty  much  his  own  sweet  way 
by  his  cousin  and  aunt,  let  him  have  recourse  to 
Mrs.  Earle's  "  The  Sabbath  in  Puritan  New  Eng 
land,"  which  I  find  in  my  library  commended  to 
my  perusal,  "  with  Eugene  Field's  love,  December 


56  EUGENE  FIELD 

25th,  1891  " — and  to  other  books  by  the  same 
author.  In  a  letter  to  Mrs.  Earle,  from  which  I 
quoted  in  the  opening  paragraph  of  this  narrative, 
I  find  the  following  reference  to  the  period  of  his 
life  which  we  are  now  considering: 

"  Fourteen  years  of  my  life  were  spent  in  New- 
fane,  Vt,  and  Amherst,  Mass.  My  lovely  old 
grandmother  was  one  of  the  very  elect.  How  many 
times  have  I  carried  her  footstove  for  her  and  filled 
it  in  the  vestry-room.  I  have  frozen  in  the  old  pew 
while  grandma  kept  nice  and  warm  and  nibbled 
lozenges  and  cassia  cakes  during  meeting.  I  re 
member  the  old  sounding-board.  There  was  no 
melodeon  in  that  meeting-house;  and  the  leader  of 
the  choir  pitched  the  tune  with  a  tuning-fork.  As 
a  boy  I  used  to  play  hi-spy  in  the  horse-shed.  But 
I  am  not  so  very  old — no,  a  man  is  still  a  boy  at 
forty,  isn't  he?'7 

Eugene  Field  would  have  been  a  boy  at  fifty  and 
at  eighty  had  he  lived,  and  he  was  very  much  of  a 
boy  at  the  period  of  which  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Earle. 
I  have  no  doubt  that  he  was  a  very  circumspect  lad 
while  under  the  loving  yet  stern  glance  of  that  dear 
old  grandmother,  in  whose  kindly  yet  dignified 
presence  three  generations  of  Fields  moved  with 
varying  emotions  of  love  and  circumspection. 
"  Her  husband  "  (General  Martin  Field  of  our  ac- 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YOUTH  57 

quaintance),  wrote  "  Uncle  Charles  Kellogg/' 
"  was  genial  and  social,  full  of  humor  and  mirth, 
oftentimes  filling  the  house  with  his  jocund  laugh." 
She,  however,  "  true  to  her  refined  womanly  in 
stinct,  her  sense  of  propriety,  rarely  disturbed  by 
his  merry  and  harmless  jests,  with  great  discretion 
pursued  '  the  even  tenor  of  her  way.'  Patiently  and 
with  unfaltering  devotion  to  the  higher  and  nobler 
purposes  of  life,  she  always  maintained  her  self- 
possession,  strenuously  avoided  all  levity  and  fri 
volity,  rarely  relaxed  the  gravity  of  her  deport 
ment,  and  never  failed  in  the  end  of  controlling 
both  husband  and  household." 

Eugene's  own  picture  of  his  grandmother  is  con 
tained  in  the  following  passage  in  an  article  con 
tributed  by  him  to  the  Ladies'  Home  Journal: 

"  Grandma  was  a  pillar  in  the  Congregational 
Church.  At  the  decline  and  disintegration  of  the 
Universalist  society,  she  rejoiced  cordially  as  if  a 
temple  of  Baal  or  an  idol  of  Ashtaroth  had  been 
overturned.  Yes,  grandma  was  Puritanical — not 
to  the  extent  of  persecution,  but  a  Puritan  in  the 
severity  of  her  faith  and  in  the  exacting  nicety  of 
her  interpretation  of  her  duties  to  God  and  man 
kind.  Grandma's  Sunday  began  at  six  o'clock  Sat 
urday  evening;  by  that  hotir  her  house  was  swept 
and  garnished,  and  her  lamps  trimmed,  every  prep- 


58  EUGENE  FIELD 

aration  made  for  a  quiet,  reverential  observance  of 
the  Sabbath  Day.  There  was  no  cooking  on  Sun 
day.  At  noon  Mrs.  Deacon  Ranney  and  other  old 
ladies  used  to  come  from  church  with  grandma  to 
eat  luncheon  and  discuss  the  sermon  and  suggest 
deeds  of  piety  for  the  ensuing  week.  I  remember 
Mrs.  Deacon  Ranney  and  her  frigid  companions 
very  distinctly.  They  never  smiled  and  they  wore 
austere  bombazines  that  rustled  and  squeaked  dolor 
ously.  Mrs.  Deacon  Ranney  seldom  noticed  me 
further  than  to  regard  me  with  a  look  that  seemed 
to  stigmatize  me  as  an  incipient  vessel  of  wrath  that 
was  not  to  be  approved  of,  and  I  never  liked  Mrs. 
Deacon  Ranney  after  I  heard  her  reminding  grand 
ma  one  day  that  Solomon  had  truly  said,  '  spare 
the  rod  and  spoil  the  child.'  I  still  think  ill  of 
Mrs.  Deacon  Ranney  for  having  sought  to  corrupt 
dear  old  grandma's  gentle  nature  with  any  such  in 
cendiary  suggestions.  The  meeting-house  was  cold 
and  draughty,  and  the  seats,  with  their  straight 
backs,  were  oh,  so  hard.  Grandma's  pew  was  near 
the  pulpit.  I  remember  now  how  ashamed  I  used 
to  be  to  carry  her  footstove  all  the  way  up  that 
long  aisle  for  her — I  was  such  a  foolish  little  boy 
then — and  now,  ah  me,  how  ready  and  glad 
and  proud  I  should  be  to  do  that  service  for  dear 
old  grandma ! 


BIRTH  AND  EAELY  YOUTH  59 

"  When  grandma  went  to  meeting  she  carried  a 
lovely  big  black  velvet  bag;  it  had  a  bouquet 
wrought  in  beads  of  subdued  color  upon  it,  and  it 
hung  by  two  sombre  silk  puckering  ribbons  over 
grandma's  arm.  In  the  bag  grandma  carried  a 
supply  of  crackers  and  peppermint  lozenges,  and 
upon  these  she  would  nibble  in  meeting  whenever 
she  felt  that  feeling  of  goneness  in  the  pit  of  her 
stomach,  which  I  was  told  old  ladies  sometimes 
suffer  with.  It  was  proper  enough,  I  was  assured, 
for  old  ladies  to  nibble  at  crackers  and  peppermint 
lozenges  in  meeting,  but  that  such  a  proceeding 
would  be  very  wicked  for  a  little  boy." 

From  which  it  might  appear  that  the  atmosphere 
of  Newfane,  under  the  grave  and  serious  deport 
ment  of  his  grandmother,  must  have  been  a  change 
from  the  freedom  Eugene  and  his  brother  enjoyed 
under  the  fond  rule  of  Miss  French  at  Amherst. 
But  when  I  was  in  Newfane  in  1899  I  was  in 
formed  by  a  dear  old  lady  in  bombazine,  who  re 
membered  their  visits  distinctly,  that  "  Eugene 
and  Roswell  were  wild  boys.  Not  bad,  but  just 
tew  full  of  old  Nick  for  anything." 

It  was  in  Amherst,  however,  and  not  in  New- 
fane,  from  Cousin  Mary,  and  not  from  his  dear 
Grandmother  Esther,  that  Eugene  got  the  New 
England  "  bent  "  in  his  Missouri  mind.  It  is  hard 


60  EUGENE  FIELD 

to  separate  the  fact  from  the  fancy  in  his  story  of 
"My  Grandmother."  His  youth  from  1856  to 
1865  was  lived  in  Amherst.  His  only  visit  to  the 
Field  homestead  in  Newfane  was  when  he  was  nine 
years  old.  And  of  this  he  has  written,  "  we  stayed 
there  seven  months  and  the  old  lady  got  all  the 
grandsons  she  wanted.  She  did  not  invite  us  to 
repeat  the  visit."  He  also  confessed  that  all  his 
love  for  nature  dated  from  that  visit.  As  a  boy 
he  would  never  have  been  permitted  to  indulge  the 
fondness  for  animal  pets  under  "  the  dark  penetrat 
ing  eyes  "  of  his  grandmother,  that  was  tolerated 
and  became  a  life-habit  by  the  "  gracious  love  "  of 
Mary  Field  French.  Of  this  fondness  for  pets, 
Koswell  has  written  that  it  amounted  to  a  passion. 
"  But  unlike  other  boys  he  seemed  to  carry  his  pets 
into  a  higher  sphere  and  to  give  them  personality. 
For  each  pet,  whether  dog,  cat,  bird,  goat,  or  squir 
rel — he  had  the  family  distrust  of  a  horse — he  not 
only  had  a  name,  but  it  was  his  delight  to  fancy  that 
each  possessed  a  peculiar  dialect  of  human  speech, 
and  each  he  addressed  in  the  humorous  manner  con 
ceived.  When  in  childhood  he  was  conducting  a 
poultry  annex  to  the  homestead,  each  chicken  was 
properly  instructed  to  respond  to  a  peculiar  call, 
and  Finniken,  Minniken,  Winniken,  Dump,  Poog, 
Boog  seemed  to  recognize  immediately  the  queer  in- 


-<  ^ 

E-       S 


li 


a    ~ 

EH        S 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YOUTH  61 

tonations  of  their  master  with  an  intelligence  that  is 
not  usually  accorded  to  chickens." 

I  cannot  forbear  to  introduce  here  a  characteristic 
bit  of  evidence  from  Eugene  Field's  own  pen  of  the 
survival  of  the  passion  for  pets  to  which  his  brother 
testifies: 

"  It  is  only  under  stress/'  said  he  in  his  allotted 
column  in  the  Chicago  Record  of  January  9th, 
1892,  "  nay,  under  distress,  that  the  mysterious  veil 
of  the  editorial-room  may  properly  be  thrown  aside 
and  the  secret  thereof  disclosed.  It  is  under  a  cer 
tain  grievous  distress  that  we  make  this  statement 
now: 

"  For  a  number  of  months  the  silent  partner  in 
the  construction  of  this  sporadic  column  of  '  Sharps 
and  Flats '  has  been  a  little  fox  terrier  given  to  the 
writer  hereof  by  his  friend,  Mr.  Will  J.  Davis. 
We  named  our  little  companion  Jessie,  and  our  at 
tachment  to  her  was  wholly  reciprocated  by  Jessie 
herself,  although  (and  we  make  this  confession  very 
shamefacedly)  our  enthusiasm  for  Jessie  was  by  no 
means  shared  by  the  prudent  housewife  in  charge 
of  the  writer's  domestic  affairs.  Jessie  contributed 
to  and  participated  in  our  work  in  this  wise:  She 
would  sit  and  admiringly  watch  the  writer  at  his 
work,  wagging  her  abridged  tail  cordially  whenever 
he  bestowed  a  casual  glance  upon  her,  threatening 


62  EUGENE  FIELD 

violence  to  every  intruder,  warning  her  master  of 
the  approach  of  every  garrulous  visitor,  and  often 
times,  when  she  felt  lonely,  insisted  on  climbing  up 
into  her  master's  lap  and  slumbering  there  while  he 
wrote  and  wrote  away.  We  have  tried  our  poems 
on  Jessie,  and  she  always  liked  them;  leastwise  she 
always  wagged  her  tail  approvingly  and  smiled  her 
flatteries  as  only  a  very  intelligent  little  dog  can. 
Some  folk  think  that  our  poetry  drove  Jessie  away 
from  home,  but  we  know  better;  Jessie  herself 
would  deny  that  malicious  imputation  were  she 
here  now  and  could  she  speak. 

"  To  this  little  companion  we  became  strongly, 
perhaps  foolishly,  attached.  She  walked  with  us 
by  day,  hunting  rats  and  playing  famously  every 
variety  of  intelligent  antics.  Whither  we  went  she 
went,  and  at  night  she  shared  our  couch  with  us. 
Though  only  nine  months  old  Jessie  stole  into  this 
life  of  ours  so  very  far  that  years  seemed  hardly  to 
compass  the  period  and  honesty  of  our  friendship. 

"  Well,  last  Tuesday  night  Jessie  disappeared — 
vanished  as  mysteriously  as  if  the  earth  had  opened 
up  and  swallowed  her.  She  had  been  playing  with 
a  discreet  dog  friend  in  Fullerton  Avenue,  and  that 
was  the  last  seen  of  her !  Where  can  she  have  gone  ? 
It  is  very  lonesome  without  Jessie.  Moreover  there 
are  poems  to  be  read  for  her  approval  before  they 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YOUTH  63 

can  be  printed;  the  great  cause  of  literature  waits 
upon  Jessie.  She  must  be  found  and  restored  to 
her  proper  sphere. 

"  Jessie  perhaps  was  not  beautiful,  yet  she  was 
fair  to  her  master's  eyes.  She  was  white  with  yel 
low  ears  and  a  brownish  blaze  over  her  left  eye  and 
warty  cheek.  She  weighed  perhaps  twenty  pounds 
(for  Jessie  never  had  dyspepsia),  and  one  mark  you 
surely  could  tell  her  by  was  the  absence  of  a  nail 
from  her  left  forepaw,  the  honorable  penalty  of  an 
encounter  with  an  enraged  setting  hen  in  our  barn 
last  month. 

"  Jessie's  master  is  not  rich,  for  the  poetry  that 
fox  terriers  approve  is  not  remunerative;  but  that 
master  has  accumulated  (by  means  of  industrious 
application  to  his  work  and  his  friends)  the  sum  of 
$20,  which  he  will  cheerfully  pay  to  the  man, 
woman,  or  child  who  will  bring  Jessie  back  again. 
For  he  is  a  weak  human  creature,  is  Jessie's  master, 
in  his  loneliness,  without  his  faithful,  admiring 
little  dumb  friend." 

Two  days  later  Field  printed  the  following  letter 
and  his  answer  thereto,  both  written  by  the  same 
hand  in  his  column: 

CHICAGO,  January  10th. 

To  the  Editor:  I  am  very  sorry  for  the  gentleman 
who  writes  your  Sharps  and  Flats,  for  I  know  what 


64  EUGENE  FIELD 

it  is  to  lose  a  little  dog.  I  had  one  once  and  some 
boy  I  guess  took  it  off  and  never  brought  it  back 
again.  I  have  got  a  maltese  cat  and  four  beautiful 
kittens,  and  should  like  to  send  the  gentleman  one  of 
the  kittens  if  he  wants  one.  Maybe  he  would  get  to 
like  the  kitten  as  much  as  he  did  the  little  dog.  Re 
spectfully,  your  little  friend, 

EDITH  LONG. 

"  Many  thanks  to  our  charming  little  correspond 
ent;  she  has  a  gentle  heart,  we  know.  "What  havoc 
one  of  those  mischievous  creatures  would  make !  In 
the  first  place  it  would  accomplish  the  destruction 
of  these  little  canaries  of  ours  which  now  flit  about 
this  lovely  disordered  room,  perching  confidently 
upon  folios  and  bric-a-brac  and  hopping  blithely 
over  the  manuscripts  and  papers  on  the  table.  In 
the  basement  against  the  furnace,  three  beautiful 
fleecy  little  chickens  have  just  hatched  out.  How 
long  do  you  suppose  it  would  be  before  that  wicked 
little  kitten  discovered  and  compassed  the  demolition 
of  those  innocent  baby  fowls?  Then  again  there 
are  rabbits  in  the  stable  and  very  tame  pigeons  and 
the  tiniest  of  bantams.  It  would  be  very  dreadful 
to  introduce  a  truculent  kitten  (and  all  felines  are 
naturally  truculent)  into  such  society.  And  our 
blood  fairly  congeals  when  we  think  that  perhaps 
(oh,  fearful  possibility)  that  kitten  might  nose  out 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YOUTH  65 

and  wantonly  destroy  the  too  lovely  butterflies 
stored  away  in  yonder  closet,  which  we  have  ap 
propriately  named  the  cage  of  gloom. 

"  Miss  Edith  must  keep  her  kitten  and  may  she 
have  the  pleasure  of  its  pretty  antics.  However, 
she  must  bear  this  in  mind,  that  sooner  or  later  our 
pets  come  to  grief. 

"  Very,  very  many  years  ago,  we  read  and  cried 
over  a  little  book  written  by  Grace  Greenwood  and 
entitled  '  The  History  of  My  Pets.7  Even  as  a 
child  we  wondered  why  it  was  that  evil  invariably 
befell  the  pets  of  youth. 

"  We  all  know  that  most  little  folks  are  tender 
hearted,  yet  there  are  some  who  seem  indifferent  to 
pets,  to  have  little  sympathy  with  the  pathos  of 
dumb  animals.  And  we  have  so  often  wondered 
whether  after  all  these  latter  did  not  get  more  of 
pleasure  or  should  we  say  less  of  pain  out  of  life 
than  the  others.  The  tender  heart  seldom  hardens ; 
in  maturer  years  its  comprehensions  and  sympathies 
broaden,  and  this  of  course  involves  pain.  Are  the 
delights  of  sympathy  a  fair  offset  to  the  pains  there 
of?  " 

The  boy  at  Amherst  was  the  father  of  the  man  at 
forty-two.  It  was  to  the  prototype  of  "  The  Bench- 
Legged  Fyce,"  known  in  Miss  French's  household 


66  EUGENE  FIELD 

as  "  Dooley,"  that  the  boy  Eugene  attributed  his 
first  verse,  a  parody  on  the  well-known  lines,  "  Oh, 
had  I  the  wings  of  a  dove!  "  Dooley's  song  ran: 

Oh,  had  I  wings  like  a  dove  I  would  fly 
Away  from  this  world  of  fleas; 

I'd  fly  all  round  Miss  Emerson's  yard 
And  light  on  Miss  Emerson's  trees. 

It  was  rank  disloyalty  to  the  memory  of  "  Doo- 
ley  "  to  rename  the  bench-legged  fyce  "  Sooner  " 
and  locate  the  scene  of  his  "  chronic  repose  "  in 
St.  Jo  rather  than  under  the  flea-proof  tree  of  Mrs. 
Emerson  in  Amherst.  But  who  regrets  the  poetic 
license  as  he  reads: 

We  all  hev  our  choice,  an'  you  like  the  rest, 

Allow  that  dorg  which  you've  got  is  the  best; 

I  wouldn't  give  much  for  the  boy  'at  grows  up 

With  no  friendship  subsistin'  'tween  him  and  a  pup; 

When  a  fellow  gits  old — I  tell  you  it's  nice 

To  think  of  his  youth  and  his  bench-legged  fyce! 

Although  Eugene  Field  never  forgot  or  forgave 
the  terrors  of  the  New  England  Sabbath,  its  strict 
observance,  its  bad  singing,  doleful  prayers  and  in 
terminable  sermons,  the  impress  of  those  all-day 
sessions  in  church  and  Sunday-school  was  never 
eradicated  from  his  life  and  writings.  Nothing 
else  influenced  his  work  or  affected  his  style  as  much 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YOUTH  67 

as  the  morals  and  the  literature  of  the  Bible  and  the 
sacred  songs  that  were  lined  out  week  after  week 
from  the  pulpit  under  which  he  literally  and  figura 
tively  sat  when  a  youth.  "  If,"  he  has  said,  "  I 
could  be  grateful  to  New  England  for  nothing 
else,  I  should  bless  her  forevermore  for  pounding 
me  with  the  Bible  and  the  Spelling-Book." 

There  is  in  the  possession  of  the  family  the 
"  Notes  of  a  Sermon  by  E.  P.  Field,"  said  to  have 
been  written  by  Eugene  at  the  age  of  nine,  when 
he  affected  the  middle  initial  of  P  in  honor  of  Wen 
dell  Phillips.  It  was  more  probably  written  when 
he  was  twelve  or  fourteen,  as  he  showed  at  nine  none 
of  the  signs  of  precocity  which  such  a  composition 
indicates.  The  youthful  Channing  took  for  his  text 
the  fifteenth  verse  of  the  thirteenth  chapter  of 
Proverbs:  "  Good  understanding  giveth  favor:  but 
the  way  of  transgressors  is  hard."  Upon  this  he 
expounded  as  follows: 

"  The  life  of  a  Christian  is  often  compared  to  a 
race  that  is  hard  and  to  a  battle  in  which  a  man 
must  fight  hard  to  win,  these  comparisons  have  pre 
vented  many  from  becoming  Christians. 

"  But  the  Bible  does  not  compare  the  Christian's 
path  as  one  of  hard  labor.  But  Solomon  says  wis 
dom's  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness  and  her  paths 
are  peace.  Under  the  word  transgressor  are  in- 


68  EUGENE  FIELD 

eluded  all  those  that  disobey  their  maker,  or,  in 
shorter  words,  the  ungodly.  Every  person  look 
ing  around  him  will  see  many  who  are  transgres 
sors  and  whose  lot  is  very  hard. 

"I  remark  secondly  that  conscience  makes  the  way 
of  transgressors  hard;  for  every  act  of  pleasure, 
every  act  of  guilt  his  conscience  smites  him.  The 
last  of  his  stay  on  earth  will  appear  horrible  to  the 
beholder.  Sometimes,  however,  he  will  be  stayed 
in  his  guilt.  A  death  in  a  family  of  some  favorite 
object,  or  be  attacked  by  some  disease  himself,  is 
brought  to  the  portals  of  the  grave.  Then  for  a 
little  time,  perhaps,  he  is  stayed  in  his  wickedness, 
but  before  long  he  returns  to  his  worldly  lusts.  Oh, 
it  is  indeed  hard  for  a  sinner  to  go  down  into  per 
haps  perdition  over  all  the  obstacles  which  God 
has  placed  in  his  path.  But  many,  I  am  afraid,  do 
go  down  into  perdition,  for  wide  is  the  gate  and 
broad  is  the  way  that  leadeth  to  destruction,  and 
many  there  be  that  go  in  after  it. 

"  Suppose  now  there  was  a  fearful  precipice  and 
to  allure  you  there  your  enemies  should  scatter 
flowers  on  its  dreadful  edge,  would  you  if  you  knew 
that  while  you  were  strolling  about  on  that  awful 
rock  that  night  would  settle  down  on  you  and  that 
yon  would  fall  from  that  giddy,  giddy  height,  would 
you,  I  say,  go  near  that  dreadful  rock?  Just  so 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YOUTH  69 

with  the  transgressor,  he  falls  from  that  height  just 
because  he  wishes  to  appear  good  in  the  sight  of  the 
world.  But  what  will  a  man  gain  if  he  gain  the 
whole  world  and  lose  his  own  soul." 

Whenever  this  was  written  it  shows  on  its  face 
that  it  is  more  an  effort  of  memory  or  the  effect  of 
one  of  the  fearful  sermons  of  fifty  years  ago  on  the 
impressionable  mind  of  youth,  than  the  original 
production  of  a  precocious  boy  struggling  with  the 
insoluble  problem  of  life  and  judgment  to  come. 
Mark  how  the  stock  words  of  the  pulpiteer,  "  trans 
gressor,"  "  worldly  lusts,"  "dreadful,"  "awful," 
"  perdition  "  stalk  fiercely  through  the  sermon  of 
the  youthful  saint  or  sinner! 

Roswell  Field  says  that  his  brother  without  in 
struction  early  acquired  the  habit  of  drawing  amus 
ing  pictures  of  his  playmates  and  his  pets,  and  that 
later  in  life  he  gave  it  as  his  honest  opinion  that  he 
would  have  been  much  more  successful  as  a  carica 
turist  than  as  a  writer.  But  Eugene's  drawings  at 
all  periods  were  never  more  than  grotesque  or  fanci 
ful  illustrations  of  the  whimsical  ideas  he  harbored 
respecting  everything  that  came  to  his  attention. 

In  after  life  Eugene  Field  gave  frequent  proof 
that  he  cherished  contradictory  sentiments  toward 
Vermont  and  New  England.  One  view  was  tinged, 
I  think,  with  the  recollection  of  the  wrong  his  father 


70  EUGENE  FIELD 

suffered  at  the  hands  of  the  Green  Mountain  courts, 
and  reflects  the  general  tenor  of  his  comment  when 
ever  Vermont  men  or  affairs  came  under  discussion 
in  the  public  press.  It  is  illustrated  in  the  follow 
ing  paragraph: 

The  Vermont  papers  agreed  that  Colonel  Aldace 
Walker  is  the  very  best  man  in  Vermont  for  the  Inter- 
State  Commerce  Commission.  This  may  be  true. 
At  the  same  time,  however,  we  fail  to  see  what  inter 
est  Vermont  can  possibly  take  in  inter-state  com 
merce.  She  has  no  commerce  of  her  own,  and  she 
probably  never  will  have.  There  is  a  bobbin  factory 
at  Williamsville,  and  a  melodeon  factory  at  Brattle- 
boro,  but  the  commerce  resulting  from  them  is  not 
worthy  of  mention.  There  is  talk  about  the  maple- 
sugar  that  Vermont  exports,  but  we  have  noticed  that 
all  the  "  genuine  Vermont  maple-sugar  "  in  the  West 
ern  market  comes  from  the  South,  and  is  about  as 
succulent  as  the  heel  of  a  gum-boot.  In  all  the  State 
of  Vermont  there  is  but  one  railroad,  the  Vermont 
Central ;  it  begins  at  Grout's  Corner,  Mass.,  and  runs 
in  a  bee-line  north  until  it  reaches  the  southern  end 
of  the  Montreal  bridge.  This  remarkable  road  has  a 
so-called  branch  operating  once  per  week  between 
White  Eiver  Junction  and  Montpelier,  and  a  tri 
weekly  branch  extending  to  Burlington.  Montpelier 
is  the  home  of  Hiram  Atkins,  the  famous  "  Nestor  uv 
Checkerberry  Journalism,"  and  White  River  Junction 


BIRTH  AND  EARLY  YOUTH  71 

is  the  whistling  station  and  water-tank  from  which 
our  country  gets  its  election  returns  every  four  years. 
Burlington  is  located  on  Lake  Champlain,  and  con 
tains  the  summer  residence  of  that  grand  old  survivor 
of  the  glacial  period,  George  F.  Edmunds.  Thus  in 
a  brief  paragraph  have  we  compressed  all  that  can  be 
said  of  the  commerce  and  the  railways  of  Vermont. 

The  other  view  is  softened  with  the  haze  that 
hangs  over  the  scenes  of  childhood  in  the  minds  of 
all  men  of  feeling  when  interpreted  by  an  artist  in 
expressing  the  thought  "  that  unbidden  rises  and 
passes  in  a  tear."  It  is  from  Field's  little-known 
memorial  to  Mrs.  Melvin  L.  Gray,  written  while 
he  was  in  Southern  California: 

The  quiet  beauty  of  these  scenes  recalls  a  time 
which,  in  my  life,  is  so  long  ago  that  I  feel  strangely 
reverential  when  I  speak  of  it.  I  find  myself  think 
ing  of  my  boyhood,  and  of  the  hills  and  valleys  and 
trees  and  flowers  and  birds  I  knew  when  the  morning 
of  my  life  was  fresh  and  full  of  exuberance.  Those 
years  were  spent  among  the  Pelham  hills,  very,  very 
far  from  here;  but  memory  o'erleaps  the  mountain 
ranges,  the  leagues  upon  leagues  of  prairie,  the 
mighty  rivers,  the  forest,  the  farming  lands,  overleaps 
them  all;  and  to-day,  by  that  same  sweet  magic  that 
instantaneously  undoes  the  years  and  space,  I  seem 
to  be  among  the  Pelham  hills  again.  The  yonder 


72  EUGENE  FIELD 

glimpse  of  the  Pacific  becomes  the  silver  thread  of  the 
Connecticut,  seen,  not  over  miles  of  orange-groves, 
but  over  broad  acres  of  Indian  corn;  and  instead  of 
the  pepper  and  eucalyptus,  the  lemon  and  the  palm, 
I  see  (or  I  seem  to  see)  the  maple  once  more,  and  the 
elm  and  the  chestnut  trees,  the  shagbark  walnut,  the 
hickory,  and  the  birch.  In  those  days,  these  rugged 
mountains  of  this  south  land  were  unknown  to  me; 
and  the  Pelham  hills  were  full  of  marvel  and  delight, 
with  their  tangled  pathways  and  hidden  stores  of  win- 
tergreen  and  wild  strawberries.  Furtive  brooks  led 
the  little  boy  hither  and  thither  in  his  quest  for  trout 
and  dace,  while  to  the  gentler-minded  the  modest 
flowers  of  the  wild-wood  appealed  with  singular  di 
rectness.  A  partridge  rose  now  and  then  from  the 
thicket  and  whirred  away,  and  with  startled  eyes  the 
brown  thrush  peered  out  from  the  bushes.  I  see  these 
pleasant  scenes  again,  and  I  hear  again  the  beloved 
sounds  of  old;  and  so  with  reverence  and  with  wel 
coming  I  take  up  my  task,  for  it  was  among  these 
same  Pelham  hills  that  the  dear  lady  of  whom  I  am 
to  speak  was  born  and  spent  her  childhood. 


CHAPTEK.  V 
EDUCATION 

There  was  more  truth  than  epigrammatic  nov 
elty  in  Eugene  Field's  declaration  that  his  edu 
cation  began  when  he  fancied  he  had  left  it  off 
for  the  serious  business  of  life.  Throughout  his 
boyhood  he  was  far  from  a  hardy  youth.  He 
always  gave  the  impression  of  having  overgrown 
his  strength,  so  that  delicate  health,  and  not  indis 
position  to  study,  has  been  assigned  as  the  excuse 
for  his  backwardness  in  "  book  larnin'  "  when  it 
was  decided  to  send  him  away  from  the  congenial 
distractions  of  Amherst  to  the  care  of  the  Kev. 
James  Tufts  of  Monson. 

Monson  is  a  very  prettily  situated  Massachusetts 
town,  about  fifteen  miles,  as  the  crow  flies,  east  of 
Springfield,  and  not  more  than  twenty-five  miles 
south  by  east  of  Amherst.  It  boasted  then  and 
still  boasts  one  of  the  best  equipped  boys'  acad 
emies  in  New  England.  It  was  not  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  this  academy,  however,  that  Eugene 
was  entrusted,  but  to  the  private  tutorship  of  Mr. 

73 


74  EUGENE  FIELD 

Tufts,  whose  life  and  character  justify  the  tribute 
of  Roswell  Field  that  he  is  "  one  of  those  noble  in 
structors  of  the  blessed  old  school  who  are  passing 
away  from  the  arena  of  education  in  America." 
He  is  now,  in  1901,  in  his  ninetieth  year,  and  is 
always  spoken  of  among  his  neighbors  as  the 
"  grand  old  man  of  Monson."  From  his  own  lips, 
accompanied  by  the  lively  comments  of  Mrs.  Tufts, 
and  from  a  loving  communication  written  by  him 
to  the  Springfield  Republican  shortly  after  Eugene 
Field's  death  I  have  gleaned  the  general  facts  of 
Eugene  Field's  school-days  at  Monson. 

It  was  in  the  Fall  of  1865  that  Eugene  became 
one  of  a  class  of  six  boys  in  the  private  school  of 
Mr.  Tufts.  This  school  was  chosen  because  Mr. 
Tufts  had  known  the  boy's  parents  and  grand 
parents  and  felt  a  real  interest  in  the  lad.  He 
would  not  have  received  the  proper  care  at  a  large 
school,  where  ahe  would  be  likely  to  get  into 
trouble  with  his  love  of  fun  and  mischief."  The 
house  in  which  Eugene  became  as  one  of  the  fam 
ily  is  situated  about  a  mile  from  the  village  and 
faces  the  post  road,  on  the  farther  side  of  which 
is  a  mill-pond,  where  both  Eugene  and  Roswell 
came  near  making  the  writing  of  this  memoir  un 
necessary  by  going  over  the  dam  in  a  rude  boat 
of  their  own  construction.  Happily  the  experience 


EDUCATION  75 


resulted  in  nothing  more  serious  than  a  thorough 
fright  and  a  still  more  thorough  ducking. 

Back  of  the  Tufts  homestead  rise  some  beauti 
fully  wooded  hills,  where  Field  and  his  schoolmates 
sought  refuge  from  the  gentle  wrath  of  Mr.  Tufts 
over  their  not  infrequent  delinquencies.  The  story 
is  told  in  Monson  that  the  boys,  under  the  leader 
ship  of  Field,  built  a  "  moated  castle  "  of  tree- 
trunks  and  brushwood  in  a  well-nigh  inaccessible 
part  of  these  woods.  Thence  they  sallied  forth  on 
their  imaginary  forays  and  thither  they  retired 
when  in  disgrace  with  Mr.  Tufts.  Around  this 
retreat  they  dug  a  deep  trench,  which  they  cov 
ered  artfully  with  boughs  and  dead  leaves.  Then 
they  beguiled  their  reverend  preceptor  into  chas 
ing  them  to  their  "  mountain  fastness."  Lightly 
they  skipped  across  the  concealed  moat  on  the  only 
firm  ground  they  had  purposely  left,  leaving  him 
in  the  moment  of  exultant  success  to  plunge  neck 
deep  into  a  tangled  mass  of  brushwood  and  mud. 
In  such  playful  ways  as  these  Field  endeared  him 
self  to  the  frequent  forgiveness  of  Mr.  Tufts.  "  It 
was  impossible,"  said  Mr.  Tufts  to  me,  "  to  cherish 
anger  against  a  pupil  whose  contrition  was  as  pro 
fuse  and  whimsical  as  his  transgressions  were  fre 
quent.  The  boys  were  boys." 

Of  Eugene's  education  when  he  came  to  Mon- 


76  EUGENE  FIELD 

son  Mr.  Tufts  testifies:  "  In  his  studies  he  was 
about  fitted  for  an  ordinary  high  school,  except  in 
arithmetic.  He  had  read  a  little  Latin — enough 
to  commence  Caesar.  I  found  him  about  an  aver 
age  boy  in  his  lessons,  not  dull,  but  not  a  quick 
and  ready  scholar  like  his  father,  who  graduated 
from  Middlebury  College  at  the  age  of  fifteen, 
strong  and  athletic.  He  did  not  seem  to  care  much 
for  his  books  or  his  lessons  anyway,  but  was  in 
clined  to  get  along  as  easily  as  he  could,  partly  on 
account  of  his  delicate  health,  which  made  close 
study  irksome,  and  partly  because  his  mind  was 
very  juvenile  and  undeveloped.  His  health  im 
proved  gradually,  while  his  interest  in  his  studies 
increased  slowly  but  steadily.  Judge  Forbes,  of 
Westboro,  for  a  time  his  room-mate  and  a  remark 
able  scholar,  remarked  on  reading  his  journal  that 
his  chum  occasionally  took  up  his  book  for  study 
when  his  teacher  came  around,  though  he  was  not 
always  particular  which  side  up  his  book  was.  And 
so  it  was  through  life." 

But  Eugene  did  improve  in  his  scholarship,  and 
during  the  last  six  months  before  leaving  to  enter 
Williams  College,  in  1868,  Mr.  Tufts  says  he  did 
seem  "  to  catch  something  of  the  spirit  of  Cicero 
and  Virgil  and  Homer  [where  was  Horace?],  and 
to  catch  a  little  ambition  for  an  education."  His 


EDUCATION  77 


gentle  preceptor  thus  summed  up  the  characteris 
tics  of  the  youth  he  was  trying  to  fit  for  college : 

"  Eugene  gave  little  if  any  indications  of  becom 
ing  a  poet,  or  such  a  poet  as  he  was,  or  even  a 
superior  writer,  in  his  youth.  He  was  always,  how 
ever,  bright  and  lively  in  conversation,  abounding 
in  wit,  self-possessed,  and  never  laughing  at  his 
own  jokes,  showing,  too,  some  of  that  exhaustless 
fountain  of  humor  in  which  he  afterward  excelled. 
But  he  did  not  like  confinement  or  close  applica 
tion,  nor  did  he  have  patience  to  correct  and  im 
prove  what  he  wrote,  as  he  afterward  did  when  his 
taste  was  more  cultivated.  In  declamation  Eugene 
always  excelled,  reciting  with  marked  effect '  Spar- 
tacus,'  '  The  Soldier  of  the  Legion,'  and  '  The 
Dream  of  Clarence  '  from  Shakespeare.  He  in 
herited  from  his  father  a  rich,  strong,  musical,  and 
sympathetic  voice,  which  made  him  a  pleasant 
speaker  and  afterward  a  successful  public  reader. 
He  very  naturally  excelled  in  conversation  at  table 
and  in  getting  up  little  comic  almanacs,  satirizing 
the  boys,  but  always  in  good-humor,  never  descend 
ing  to  anything  bitter  or  vulgar.  Indeed,  in  all 
his  fun,  he  showed  ever  a  certain  purity  and  no 
bility  of  character." 

On  one  occasion,  Eugene  wearied  of  the  per 
sistent  efforts  of  Mr.  Tufts  to  place  his  feet  on  the 


78  EUGENE  FIELD 

first  rung  of  the  ladder  to  learning,  and  started  off 
afoot  for  his  home  in  Amherst.  He  followed  the 
railway  track,  counting  the  ties  for  twenty-five 
miles,  and  arrived,  thoroughly  exhausted,  full  of 
contrition,  and  ready  to  take  the  first  train  back 
to  school.  This  was  probably  the  most  severe 
physical  effort  of  Eugene  Field's  life. 

Mr.  Tufts  says  that  Field  was  "  by  nature  and 
by  his  training,  too,  respectful  toward  religion  and 
religious  people,  being  at  one  time  here  [Monson] 
considerably  moved  and  interested  personally  in  a 
religious  awakening,  and  speaking  earnestly  in 
meeting  and  urging  the  young  to  a  religious  life. 
Great  credit  for  the  remarkable  success  of  Eugene 
is  due  to  his  Aunt  Jones,  Miss  Mary  French,  and 
his  guardian,  Professor  John  Burgess,  who  were 
a  continual  and  living  influence  about  him  until 
he  arrived  at  maturity." 

In  1868,  at  the  age  when  his  father  was  admitted 
to  the  bar  of  Vermont,  Eugene  Field,  according 
to  Mr.  Tufts,  was  barely  able  to  pass  the  examina 
tion  for  entrance  at  Williams  "  with  some  condi 
tions."  The  only  evidence  preserved  in  the  books 
of  the  college  that  he  passed  at  all  is  the  following 
entry: 

Eugene  Field,  aged  18,  September  5,  1868,  son  of 
K.  M.  Field,  St.  Louis. 


THE  KEY.   JAMES  TUFTS. 


EDUCATION"  79 


Among  the  professors  and  residents  of  Williams- 
town  there  is  scarcely  a  tradition  or  trace  of  his 
presence.  He  did  not  fit  into  the  treadmill  of  daily 
lessons  and  lectures.  He  was  impatient  of  routine 
and  discipline.  There  is  a  story  extant,  which  is 
a  self-evident  fabrication,  that  President  Mark 
Hopkins,  meeting  him  on  the  street  one  day,  asked 
him  how  he  was  getting  along  with  his  studies. 
Field  replied  that  he  was  doing  very  well.  There 
upon  President  Hopkins,  in  kindly  humor,  re 
marked:  "I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  for,  remember, 
you  have  the  reputation  of  three  universities  to 
maintain."  This  apocryphal  story  is  greatly  rel 
ished  in  Williamstown,  where,  among  the  pro 
fessors,  there  seems  to  linger  a  strange  feeling  of 
resentment  that  Field  was  not  recognized  as  pos 
sessing  the  budding  promise  that  is  better  worth 
cultivating  than  the  mediocrity  of  the  ninety-and- 
nine  orderly  youths  who  pursue  the  uneventful 
tenor  of  college  life  to  a  diploma — and  are  never 
heard  of  afterward.  There  is  a  bare  possibility, 
however,  that  President  Hopkins  might  have  re 
ferred  to  the  fact  that  Eugene's  grandfather  held 
an  A.B.  from  Williams  and  the  honorary  degree 
of  A.M.  from  Dartmouth,  while  his  father  was  an 
alumnus  of  Middlebury.  It  is  more  probably  an 
after — and  a  merry — thought  built  upon  Field's 


80  EUGENE  FIELD 

own  unfinished  career  at  AVilliains,  Knox,  and  the 
University  of  Missouri. 

From  personal  inquiry  at  Williamstown  I  find 
that  none  of  the  professors  at  Williams  saw  an 
encouraging  gleam  of  aptitude  for  anything  in  the 
big-eyed,  shambling  youth  whom  Mr.  Tufts  had 
assiduously  coached  to  meet  the  requirements  of 
matriculation.  There  is  a  shadowy  tradition  that 
he  did  fairly  well  in  his  Latin  themes  when  the 
subject  suited  his  fancy,  but  his  fancy  more  often 
led  him  to  a  sporting  resort,  kept  by  an  ex-pugilist 
named  Pettit,  where  he  took  a  hand  in  billiards 
and  made  awkward  essays  with  the  boxing-gloves. 
Of  course  there  is  the  inevitable  yarn  of  a  college 
town  that  he  became  so  conceited  over  his  skill  in 
the  manly  art  that  he  ventured  to  "  stand  up " 
before  Pettit,  to  the  bloody  disfigurement  of  his 
countenance  and  the  humiliation  of  his  pride.  If 
this  is  true,  the  lesson  lasted  him  all  his  life,  for 
a  less  combative  adult  than  Eugene  Field  never 
graduated  from  an  American  college.  He  had 
a  physical  as  well  as  a  moral  antipathy  to  personal 
participation  in  anything  involving  bodily  dan 
ger  or  violence. 

Even  then  Field  possessed  the  wit  and  the  plen 
tiful  lack  of  reverence  for  the  conventionalities  of 
life  that  must  have  rendered  him  both  intolerable 


EDUCATION  81 


and  incomprehensible  to  a  body  of  serious-minded 
and  necessarily  conventional  professors.  The  very 
traits  that  subsequently  made  him  the  most  en 
tertaining  comrade  in  the  world  provoked  only 
consternation  and  uneasiness  at  Williams.  This 
eventually  led  President  Hopkins  to  inform  Mr. 
Tufts  privately  that  it  might  be  well  for  his  pupil, 
as  certainly  it  would  conduce  to  the  orderly  life  of 
Williamstown,  if  he  would  run  up  from  Monson 
and  persuade  Eugene  to  return  home  with  him. 
There  was  no  dismissal,  rustication,  or  official  rep 
rimand  of  Eugene  Field  by  the  ever-honored 
President  Hopkins.  Field  simply  faded  out  of 
the  annals  and  class  of  1872,  as  if  he  had  never 
been  entered  at  Williams. 

Memories  of  Eugene  Field  are  not  as  thick  at 
Williamstown  as  blackberries  on  the  Pelham  hills. 
President  Carter  does  not  cherish  them  kindly  be 
cause,  perhaps,  on  the  occasion  of  his  appointment, 
Field  gravely  discussed  his  qualifications  for  the 
chair  once  occupied  by  Mark  Hopkins  as  resting 
upon  his  contribution  of  "  a  small  but  active  pel 
let  "  to  the  pharmaceutical  equipment  of  his  coun 
trymen,  famed  for  its  efficacy  to  cure  all  disorders 
of  mind  and  body  "  while  you  sleep." 

"  Hy."  Walden,  much  in  demand  as  an  express 
man,  remembers  Field  as  a  somewhat  reckless  fellow 
VOL.  I.— 6 


82  EUGENE  FIELD 

and  "  dare-devil/7  and  is  authority  for  the  story  of 
Field's  discomfiture  in  the  boxing  bout  with  the 
redoubtable  Pettit. 

Old  Tom  McMahon,  who  has  been  a  familiar 
character  to  the  students  of  Williams  for  nearly 
two  generations,  has  a  hazy  recollection  of  the 
eccentric  Eugene  who  flitted  across  the  college 
campus  a  third  of  a  century  ago.  He  says  that, 
if  he  "  remembers  right,  Mr.  Field  was  not  one  of 
the  gentlemen  who  cared  much  for  his  clothes," 
but  he  "  guessed  he  was  made  careless  like,  and 
in  some  ways  he  was  a  fine  young  man." 

The  most  valuable  glimpse  of  Field  at  Williams 
is  contained  in  the  following  letter  written  by 
Solomon  B.  Griffin,  the  managing  editor  of  the 
Springfield  Republican  for  many  years,  with  whom 
I  have  had  some  correspondence  in  respect  to  the 
matter  referred  to  therein.  He  not  only  knew 
Field  at  Williamstown,  but  was  one  of  his  life-long 
friends  and  warmest  admirers.  After  a  few  intro 
ductory  words,  under  date  of  Springfield,  February 
4th,  1901,  Mr.  Griffin  wrote: 

Yes,  I  was  of  the  class  of  1872,  but  Field  flitted 
before  I  became  connected  with  it.  But  Williams- 
town  was  my  birthplace  and  home  and  I  struck  up 
an  acquaintance  with  him  at  Smith's  college  book 
store  and  the  post-office.  Field  was  raw  and  not  a 


EDUCATION  83 


bit  deferential  to  established  customs,  and  so  the 
secret-society  men  were  not  attracted  to  him.  The 
"  trotting "  or  preliminary  attentions  to  freshmen 
constitute  a  great  and  revered  feature  of  college  life. 
When  I  saw  Field  "  trotting "  a  lank  and  gawky 
freshman  for  the  "  Mills  Theological  Society,"  the 
humor  of  it  appealed  to  one  soaked  in  the  traditions 
of  a  college  town,  and  we  "  became  acquainted." 
Field  left  the  class  about  as  I  came  in. 

It  is  not  remarkable  that  Tom  McMahon  has  no 
clear  recollection  of  Field,  who  was  in  college  only 
about  six  months  and  was  not  a  fraternity  man. 
There  are  so  many  coming  and  going !  Nor  that  the 
faculty  should  be  mindful  of  the  lawless,  irresponsible 
boy,  and  not  of  the  genius  that  developed  on  its  own 
lines  and  was  never  conventionalized  but  always  re 
mained  a  sinner  however  brilliant,  and  a  flayer  of 
good  men  unblessed  with  a  saving  sense  of  humor. 
If  there  is  any  kind  thought  for  me  in  my  old  home 
it  is  because  I  did  what  Field  couldn't  do,  paid  out 
ward  respect  to  the  environment.  It  was  possible  for 
me  to  see  his  point  of  view  and  theirs — to  them  ir 
reconcilable,  and  to  him  also. 

Sincerely  yours, 

S.  B.  GRIFFIN. 

Mr.  Tufts's  memorandum-book  shows  that  Eu 
gene  returned  to  Monson  April  27th,  1889,  so  his 
experience,  if  not  his  education,  at  "Williams  cov- 


84  EUGENE  FIELD 

ered  almost  eight  months  of  an  impressionable 
period  of  his  life.  It  is  interesting  to  record  the 
comment  of  Mrs.  Tufts  on  the  return  of  the  wan 
derer  to  her  indulgent  care.  "  He  was  too  smart 
for  the  professors  at  Williams/7  said  she;  "  be 
cause  they  did  not  understand  him,  they  could  not 
pardon  his  eccentricities."  That  she  did  under 
stand  her  husband's  favorite  pupil  is  evidenced  in 
the  following  brief  description,  given  off-hand  to 
the  writer :  "  Eugene  was  not  much  of  a  student, 
but  very  much  of  an  irrepressible  boy.  There  was 
no  malice  in  his  pranks,  only  the  inherited  dispo 
sition  to  tease  somebody  and  everybody." 

On  July  5th,  1869,  Eugene  was  summoned  to 
St.  Louis  by  the  serious  illness  of  his  father,  who 
died  July  12th. 

Thus  ended  his  education,  so  far  as  it  was  to  be 
affected  by  the  environments  and  instructors  of 
New  England.  Thenceforth  he  was  destined  to 
be  a  western  man,  with  an  ineradicable  tang  of 
Puritan  prejudices  and  convictions  cropping  out 
unexpectedly  and  incongruously  in  all  he  thought 
and  wrote. 

In  the  autumn  of  1869  Eugene  entered  the 
sophomore  class  at  Knox  College,  Galesburg,  111., 
where  Professor  John  William  Burgess,  who  had 
been  chosen  as  his  guardian,  held  the  chair  of  logic, 


EDUCATION  85 


rhetoric,  English  literature,  and  political  science. 
But  his  career  at  Knox  was  practically  a  repeti 
tion  of  that  at  Williams.  He  chafed  under  the 
restraint  of  set  rules  and  the  requirement  of  at 
tention  to  studies  in  which  he  took  no  interest. 
If  he  had  been  allowed  to  choose,  he  would  have 
devoted  his  time  to  reading  the  Latin  classics  and 
declaiming — that  is,  as  much  time  as  he  could 
spare  from  plaguing  the  professors  and  interrupt 
ing  the  studies  of  his  companions  by  every  device 
of  a  festive  and  fertile  imagination. 

One  year  of  this  was  enough  for  the  faculty  of 
Knox  and  for  the  restless  scholar,  so  in  the  autumn 
of  1870  Eugene  joined  his  brother  Koswell  in  the 
junior  class  at  the  University  of  Missouri.  Here 
Eugene  Eield  ended,  without  graduating,  such 
education  as  the  school  and  the  university  was 
ever  to  give  him,  for  in  the  spring  of  1871  he 
left  Columbia  for  St.  Louis,  never  to  return — a 
student  at  three  universities  and  a  graduate  from 
none. 

Of  Eugene  Field's  life  in  Columbia  many  stories 
abound  there  and  throughout  Missouri.  From  the 
aged  and  honored  historian  of  the  university  I 
have  the  following  testimony  as  to  the  relations 
of  the  two  brothers  with  that  institution,  premis 
ing  it  with  the  fact  that  all  the  official  records  of 


86  EUGENE  FIELD 

students  were  consumed  in  the  fire  that  visited  the 
university  in  1892: 

Koswell  M.  Field  attended  the  university  as  a 
freshman  in  1868-69,  as  a  sophomore  in  1869-70,  and 
as  a  junior  in  1870-71.  He  was  a  student  of  the  in 
stitution  these  three  sessions  only.  His  brother 
Eugene  Field  was  a  student  of  the  junior  class,  ses 
sion  1870-71,  and  never  before  or  since. 

I  knew  both  of  them  well.  Eugene  was  an  inat 
tentive,  indifferent  student,  making  poor  progress  in 
the  studies  of  the  course — a  genial,  sportive,  song- 
singing,  fun-making  companion.  Nevertheless  he 
was  bright,  sparkling,  entertaining  and  a  leader 
among  "the  boys."  In  truth  he  was  in  intellect 
above  his  fellows  and  a  genius  along  his  favorite  lines. 
He  was  prolific  of  harmless  pranks  and  his  school  life 
was  a  big  joke. 

There  has  been  preserved  the  following  speci 
men  of  the  "  rigs  "  Eugene  was  in  the  habit  of 
grinding  out  at  the  expense  of  the  faculty — this 
being  aimed  at  President  Daniel  Eeed  (1868-77). 
The  poem  is  entitled: 

BUCEPHALUS:  A  TAIL. 

Twelve  by  the  clock  and  all  is  well — 
That  is,  I  think  so,  but  who  can  tell? 
So  quiet  and  still  the  city  seems 
That  even  old  Luna's  brightest  learns 


EDUCATION  87 


Cannot  a  single  soul  discover 

Upon  the  streets  the  whole  town  over. 

The  Marshal  smiles  a  genial  smile 

And  retires  to  snooze  for  a  little  while, 

To  dream  of  billies  and  dirlcs  and  slings, 

The  calaboose  and  such  pleasant  things. 

The  college  dig  now  digs  for  bed 

With  bunged-up  eyes  and  aching  head, 

Conning  his  lesson  o'er  and  o'er, 

Till  an  audible  melodious  snore 

Tells  that  he's  going  the  kingdom  through 

Where  Greek's  at  a  discount  and  Latin,  too. 

The  Doctor,  robed  in  his  snowy  white, 
Gazes  out  from  his  window  height, 
And  he  bends  to  the  breezes  his  noble  form, 
Like  a  stately  oak  in  a  thunderstorm, 
And  watches  his  sleek  and  well-fed  cows 
At  the  expense  of  the  college  browse. 
His  prayers  are  said;  out  goes  the  light; 
Good-night;  0  learned  pres,  good-night. 

Half-past  five  by  Ficklin's  time 
When  I  again  renew  my  rhyme; 
Old  Sol  is  up  and  the  college  dig 
Resumes  his  musty,  classic  gig, 
"  Ccesar  venit  celere  jam." 

With  here  and  there  an  auxiliary 

The  Marshal  awakes  and  stalks  around 
With  an  air  importantly  profound, 


88  EUGENE  FIELD 

And  seizing  on  a  luckless  wight 
Who  quietly  stayed  at  home  all  night 
On  a  charge  of  not  preserving  order, 
Drags  him  before  the  just  Recorder. 

In  vain  the  hapless  youth  denies  it; 

A  barroom  loafer  testifies  it. 

"Fine  him/'  the  court-house  rabble  shout 

(This  is  the  latest  jury  out). 

So  when  his  poclcetbooh  is  eased 

Most  righteous  justice  is  appeased. 

The  Doctor  lay  in  his  little  bed, 

His  night-cap  'round  his  God-like  head, 

With  a  blanket  thick  and  snowy  sheet 

Enveloped  his  I pshaw !  and  classical  feet, 

And  he  cleared  his  throat  and  began: "  My  dear, 
As  well  in  Indiana  as  here — 
I  always  took  a  morning  ride, 
With  you,  my  helpmeet,  by  my  side. 

"  This  morning  is  so  clear  and  cool, 
We'll  ride  before  it's  time  for  school. 
Holloa,  there  John!  you  lazy  cuss! 
Bring  forth  my  horse,  Bucephalus ! " 
So  spake  the  man  of  letters.     Straight 
Black  John  went  through  the  stable  gate, 
But  soon  returned  with  hair  on  end, 
While  terror  wings  his  speed  did  lend, 
And  out  he  sent  his  piteous  wail: 
"  0  boss!  Old  Bucky's  lost  his  tail! " 


EDUCATION  89 


Down  went  the  night-cap  on  the  ground, 
Hats,  boots  and  clothing  flying  round; 
In  vain  his  helpmeet  cried  "  Hold  on!  " 
He  went  right  through  that  sable  John. 
Sing,  sing,  0  Muse,  what  deeds  were  done 
This  morn  by  God-like  Peleus'  son; 
Descend,  0  -fickle  Goddess,  urge 
My  lyre  to  his  bombastic  splurge. 

Boots  and  the  man  I  sing,  who  first 
Those  Argive  machinations  cursed; 
His  swimming  eyes  did  Daniel  raise 
To  that  sad  tail  of  other  days, 
And  cried  "Alas!  what  ornery  cuss 
Has  shaved  you,  my  Bucephalus  ?  " 
Then  turning  round  lie  gently  sighed, 
"  We  will  postpone  our  morning  ride." 

In  wrath  I  smite  my  quivering  lyre, 
Come  once  again,  fair  Muse,  inspire 
My  song  to  more  heroic  acts 
Than  these  poor  simple,  truthful  facts. 
Cursed  be  the  man  who  hatched  the  plot! 
Let  dire  misfortune  be  his  lot! 
Palsied  the  hand  that  struck  the  blow! 
Blind  be  the  eyes  that  saw  the  show! 
Hated  the  wretch  who  ruthless  bled 
This  innocent  old  quadruped. 

Subpreps,  a  word  of  caution,  please; 
Better  prepare  your  A,  B,  C's 


90  EUGENE  FIELD 

Than  prowl  around  at  dead  of  night. 
Don't  rouse  the  beast  in  Daniel's  breast; 
Perhaps  you'll  come  out  second  best. 

Dear,  gentle  reader,  pardon,  pray, 
I'm  thinking  now  I  hear  you  say, 
"  Oh,  nonsense!  what  a  foolish  fuss 
About  a  horse,  Bucephalus/' 

This  is  no  better  verse,  and  possibly  no  worse, 
than  much  of  the  adolescent  doggerel  that  is  so 
often  preserved  by  fond  parents  to  prove  that  their 
child  early  gave  signs  of  poetic  and  literary  genius. 


CHAPTER  VI 
CHOICE    OF  A   PROFESSION 

Eugene  Field  was  in  his  twenty-first  year  when 
he  turned  his  back  upon  the  colleges  and  faced 
life.  Roswell  M.  Field,  Sr.,  had  been  dead  two 
years,  and  the  moderate  fortune  which  he  had  left, 
consisting  mostly  of  realty  valued  at  about  $60,000, 
had  not  yet  been  distributed  among  the  legatees, 
Eugene  and  Roswell  M.  Field  and  Mary  French 
Field.  To  the  last  named  one-fifth  had  been  willed 
in  recognition  of  the  loving  care  she  had  bestowed 
upon  the  testator's  two  motherless  sons,  each  of 
whom  was  to  receive  two-fifths  of  the  father's  es 
tate.  Eugene  therefore  looked  forward  to  the  pos 
session  of  property  worth  something  like  $25,000. 
In  St.  Louis,  in  1871,  this  was  regarded  as  quite 
a  large  fortune.  It  would  have  been  ample  to 
start  any  young  man,  with  prudence,  regular  hab 
its,  and  a  small  modicum  of  business  sense,  well 
along  in  any  profession  or  occupation  he  might 
adopt.  But  it  was  and  would  have  been  a  baga 
telle  to  Eugene  though  ten  times  the  amount,  un 
less  surrounded  with  conditions  as  impenetrable  as 

91 


92  EUGENE  FIELD 

chilled  steel  to  a  pewter  chisel  to  resist  the  seduc 
tive  ingenuity  of  his  spendthrift  nature. 

On  first  going  to  St.  Louis  to  live,  Eugene  Field 
was  peculiarly  fortunate  in  being  taken  into  the 
home  and  enduring  friendship  of  Melvin  L.  Gray, 
the  executor  of  his  father's  estate,  and  of  Mrs. 
Gray.  To  the  memory  of  the  latter,  on  her  death 
several  years  since,  Eugene  contributed  a  memorial 
from  which  I  have  already  quoted  and  which  in 
some  respects  is  the  most  sincerely  beautiful  piece 
of  prose  he  ever  wrote.  In  that  he  refers  to  his 
first  coming  to  St.  Louis  in  the  following  terms: 

My  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Gray  began  in  1871. 
I  was  at  that  time  just  coming  of  age,  and  there  were 
many  reasons  why  I  was  attracted  to  the  home  over 
which  this  admirable  lady  presided.  In  the  first 
place  Mrs.  Gray's  household  was  a  counterpart  of  the 
households  to  which  my  boyhood  life  in  New  England 
had  attracted  me.  Again  both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gray 
were  old  friends  of  my  parents ;  and  upon  Mr.  Gray's 
accepting  the  executorship  of  my  father's  estate,  Mrs. 
Gray  felt,  I  am  pleased  to  believe,  somewhat  more 
than  a  friendly  interest  in  the  two  boys,  who,  coming 
from  rural  New  England  life  into  the  great,  strange, 
fascinating  city,  stood  in  need  of  disinterested  friend 
ship  and  prudent  counsel.  I  speak  for  my  brother 
and  myself  when  I  say  that  for  the  period  of  twenty 
years  we  found  in  Mrs.  Gray  a  friend  as  indulgent. 


At  Twelve. 


At  Eighteen. 


At  Nineteen. 


At  Twenty-nine. 


EARLY  PORTRAITS   OP    EUGENE   FIELD. 


CHOICE    OF   A   PKOFESSION  93 

as  forbearing,  as  sympathetic,  as  kindly  suggestive 
and  as  disinterested  as  a  mother,  and  in  her  home 
a  refuge  from  temptation,  care  and  vexation. 

In  the  subscription  edition  of  "  A  Little  Book 
of  Western  Verse/'  of  which  I  had  all  the  labor 
and  none  of  the  fleeting  fame  of  publisher,  Field 
dedicated  his  paraphrase  of  the  Twenty-third  Psalm 
to  Mr.  Gray,  and  it  was  to  this  constant  friend  of 
his  youth  and  manhood,  who  still  survives  (1901), 
that  Field  indited  the  beautiful  dedication  of  "  The 
Sabine  Farm  " : 

Come  dear  old  friend!  and  with  us  twain 
To  calm  Digentian  groves  repair; 

The  turtle  coos  his  sweet  refrain 
And  posies  are  a-blooming  there, 

And  there  the  romping  Sabine  girls 

With  myrtle  braid  their  lustrous  curls. 

I  have  followed  the  original  copy  Field  sent  to 
Mr.  Gray,  which  has  several  variations  in  punc 
tuation  from  the  version  as  printed  in  "  The  Sabine 
Farm,"  where  the  eighth  line  reads: 

Bind  myrtle  in  their  lustrous  curls, 

which  the  reader  can  compare  with  the  original  as 
printed  above.  In  that  same  dedication  Field  re 
ferred  to  Mr.  Gray  as  one 

Who  lov'st  us  for  our  father's  sake. 


94  EUGENE  FIELD 

In  announcing  to  Mr.  Gray  by  letter,  June 
28th,  1891,  his  intention  to  make  this  dedication^ 
Field  wrote: 

It  will  interest,  and  we  [Roswell  was  a  joint  con 
tributor  to  "  The  Sabine  Farm  "]  are  hoping  that  it 
will  please  you  to  know  that  we  shall  dedicate  this 
volume  to  you,  as  a  slight,  though  none  the  less  sin 
cere,  token  of  our  regard  and  affection  to  you,  as  the 
friend  of  our  father  and  as  the  friend  to  us.  Were 
our  father  living,  it  would  please  him,  we  think,  to 
see  his  sons  collaborating  as  versifiers  of  the  pagan 
lyrist  whose  songs  he  admired;  it  would  please  him, 
too,  we  are  equally  certain,  to  see  us  dedicating  a  re 
sult  of  our  enthusiastic  toil  to  so  good  a  man  and  to 
so  good  a  friend  as  you. 

These  quotations  are  interesting  as  indicating  the 
character  of  the  surroundings  of  Eugene  Field's 
early  life  in  St.  Louis. 

It  was  the  hope  of  their  father  that  one,  if  not 
both,  of  his  sons  would  adopt  the  profession  of  the 
law,  in  which  he  and  his  brother  Charles  and  their 
father  before  them  had  attained  both  distinction 
and  something  more  than  a  competence.  But 
neither  Eugene  nor  his  brother  Roswell  had  the 
slightest  predilection  for  the  law.  By  nature  and 
by  a  certain  inconsequence  of  fancy  they  were 
peculiarly  unfitted  for  the  practice  of  a  profession 


CHOICE   OF  A   PROFESSION  95 


which  requires  drudgery  to  attain  a  mastery  of  its 
subtle  requirements  and  a  preternatural  gravity  in 
the  application  of  its  stilted  jargon  to  the  simplest 
forms  of  justice. 

The  stage,  on  the  other  hand,  possessed  a  fas 
cination  for  Eugene.  He  was  a  mimic  by  inheri 
tance,  a  comedian  by  instinct  and  unrestrained 
habit.  Everything  appealed  to  his  sense  of  the 
queer,  the  fanciful,  and  the  utterly  ridiculous.  He 
was  a  student  of  the  whimsicalities  of  character 
and  nature,  and  delighted  in  their  portrayal  by 
voice  or  pen.  Strange  to  relate,  however,  his  first 
thought  of  adopting  the  histrionic  profession  con 
templated  tragedy  as  his  forte.  He  had  inherited 
a  wondrous  voice,  deep,  sweet,  and  resonant,  from 
his  father,  and  had  a  face  so  plastic  that  it  could 
be  moulded  at  will  to  all  the  expressions  of  terror, 
malignity,  and  devotion,  or  anon  into  the  most 
grotesque  and  mirth-provoking  lines  of  comedy. 
His  early  love  for  reciting  passages  from  "  Sparta- 
cus,"  referred  to  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tufts,  showed 
the  bent  of  his  mind,  and  when  he  became  master 
of  his  own  affairs  he  sought  out  Edwin  Forrest  and 
confided  to  him  his  ambition  to  go  on  the  boards. 
Would  that  I  could  reproduce  Field's  version  of 
that  interview !  He  approached  the  great  tragedian 
with  a  sinking  heart,  for  Forrest  had  a  reputation 


96  EUGENE    FIELD 

for  brusque  roughness  never  exceeded  on  or  off  the 
stage.  But  Eugene  managed  to  prefer  his  request 
for  advice  and  an  opening  in  Forrest's  company. 
The  dark-browed  Othello  looked  his  visitor  over 
from  head  to  foot,  and,  in  a  voice  that  rolled 
through  the  flies  of  the  stage  where  this  little  scene 
was  enacted,  exclaimed: 

"  Boy,  return  to  your  friends  and  bid  them  ap 
prentice  you  to  a  wood-sawyer,  rather  than  waste 
your  life  on  a  precarious  profession  whose  successes 
are  few  and  whose  rewards  are  bankruptcy  and  in 
gratitude.  Go!  study  and  learn  of  Coriolanus." 

This  I  repeat  from  memory,  preserving  the  sense 
and  the  three  words  "  boy,"  "  wood-sawyer/'  and 
"  Coriolanus,"  which  always  recurred  in  Field's 
various  versions  of  "  "Why  I  did  not  go  on  the 
stage."  Eugene  returned  to  St.  Louis  and  quietly 
disposed  of  the  costumes  he  had  prepared  for  such 
characters  as  Hamlet,  Lear,  and  Spartacus. 

Francis  Wilson,  in  his  "The  Eugene  Field  I 
Knew,"  preserves  the  following  story  of  Eugene's 
further  venture  in  search  of  a  profession: 

He  organized  a  company  of  his  own  in  conjunction 
with  his  friend,  Marvin  Eddy,  who  tells  of  a  comedy 
Field  wrote  in  which  the  heroines  were  impersonated 
by  Field  himself  to  the  heroes  of  the  only  other  acting 
member  of  the  cast — Mr.  Eddy.  A  Madame  Saun- 


MELVIN  L.   GRAY. 


CHOICE    OF   A   PROFESSION  9? 

dors  was  the  orchestra,  or  rather  the  pianist,  and 
Monsieur  Saunders  painted  the  posters  which  an 
nounced  the  coming  of  the  "  great  and  only  "  enter 
tainment.  Rehearsals  were  held  in  the  hotel  dining- 
rooms.  While  a  darky  carried  a  placard  of  announce 
ment,  the  result  of  Saunders's  artistic  handiwork,  the 
local  band,  specially  engaged,  played  in  front  of  the 
principal  places  in  town.  Mr.  Eddy  recalls  that 
Field  had  a  sweet  bass  voice  which  he  used  with  much 
effect  both  in  songs  and  recitations. 

The  season,  confined  to  such  towns  in  Missouri  as 
Carrollton,  Eichmond,  etc.,  lasted  about  two  weeks 
and  was  what  the  papers  would  call  a  succes  d'estime. 

Which,  being  interpreted  into  the  vernacular  of 
the  author  of  "  Sharps  and  Flats/'  spelled  a  popu 
lar  "  frost "  and  a  financial  failure.  And  thus 
Missouri  closed  the  door  of  comedy  against  Field, 
as  Forrest  had  shut  the  gates  of  tragedy  in  his  pale 
and  intellectual  face. 

There  was  still  one  profession  open  to  him  in 
which  he  had  made  a  few  halting  and  tentative 
steps — that  of  journalism,  with  its  broad  entrance 
and  narrowing  perspective  into  the  fair  field  of 
letters.  While  a  sophomore  at  Knox  he  had  exer 
cised  his  irrepressible  inclination  "  to  shoot  folly 
as  it  flies  "  by  contributions  to  the  local  paper  of 
Galesburg,  which  had  the  piquant  flavor  of  per- 
VOL.  I.— 7 


98  EUGENE  FIELD 

sonal  comment.  His  youthful  dash  at  the  door  of 
the  stage  had  brought  him  into  the  comradeship  of 
Stanley  Waterloo  and  several  other  young  journal 
ists  in  St.  Louis,  and  he  was  easily  persuaded  to  try 
his  'prentice  hand  as  a  reporter,  under  the  tute 
lage  of  Stanley  Huntley,  of  the  "  Spoopendyke 
Papers  "  fame. 

But  Eugene  Field  was  yet  without  the  stern  in 
centive  of  necessity  that  is  the  seed  of  journalism. 
Circumstances,  however,  were  ripening  that  would 
soon  leave  him  no  excuse  on  that  score  for  not 
buckling  down  to  "  sawing  wood,"  as  for  twenty- 
three  years  he  was  wont  to  consider  his  daily  work. 
When  he  reached  his  majority  he  was  entitled  to 
his  share  in  the  first  distribution  of  his  father's 
estate.  Before  this  could  be  made,  Mr.  Gray  had 
to  dispose  of  a  part  of  the  land  which  he  held  as 
executor  of  Roswell  M.  Field.  It  was  accordingly 
offered  for  sale  at  auction,  and  enough  to  realize 
$20,000  was  sold.  Under  the  will,  Eugene's  share 
of  this  was  $8,000,  and  he  immediately  placed 
himself  in  the  way  of  investing  it  where  it  would 
be  the  least  incumbrance  to  him.  While  at  Co 
lumbia  he  had  met  Edgar  V.  Comstock,  the  brother 
of  his  future  wife,  through  whom  it  was  that  he 
made  her  acquaintance.  Upon  the  first  touch  of  the 
cash  payment  on  his  share  of  the  executor's  sale,  Eu- 


CHOICE   OF  A   PBOFESSION  99 

gene  at  once  proposed  to  young  Comstock  that  they 
visit  Europe  in  company,  he  bearing  the  expenses  of 
the  expedition.  His  friend  did  not  need  much  per 
suasion  to  embark  on  what  promised  to  be  such  a 
lark.  And  so,  in  the  fall  of  1872,  the  two,  against 
the  prudent  counsels  of  Mr.  Gray,  set  out  to  see 
the  world,  and  they  saw  it  just  as  far  as  Eugene's 
cash  and  the  balance  of  that  $8,000  would  go. 

In  his  "  Auto- Analysis,"  Field  says:  "  In  1872 
I  visited  Europe,  spending  six  months  and  my 
patrimony  in  France,  Italy,  Ireland,  and  Eng 
land."  This  is  as  near  the  sober  truth  as  anything 
Field  ever  wrote  about  himself.  The  youthful 
spendthrift  and  his  companion  landed  in  Ireland, 
and  by  slow,  but  extravagant,  stages  reached  Italy, 
taking  the  principal  cities  and  sights  of  England 
and  France  en  route.  About  the  only  letters  that 
reached  America  from  Field  during  this  European 
trip  (always  excepting  those  that  went  by  every 
mail-steamer  to  a  young  lady  in  St.  Jo)  were  those 
addressed  with  business-like  brevity  to  Mr.  Gray, 
calling  for  more  and  still  more  funds  to  carry  the 
travellers  onward.  Before  they  had  reached  Italy 
the  mails  were  too  slow  to  convey  Field's  impor 
tunity,  and  he  had  recourse  to  the  cable  to  impress 
Mr.  Gray  with  the  dire  immediateness  of  his  im- 
pecuniosity.  In  order  to  relieve  this  Mr.  Gray  was 


100  EUGENE  FIELD 

forced  to  discount  the  notes  for  the  deferred  pay 
ments  on  the  sale  of  the  Field  land,  and  when 
Eugene  and  his  brother-in-law-to-be  reached  Naples 
their  soulful  appeals  for  more  currency  with  which 
to  continue  their  golden  girdle  of  the  earth  were 
met  with  the  chilling  notice  "  No  funds  available." 
Happily,  in  their  meteoric  transit  across  Europe, 
they  had  invested  in  many  articles  of  vertu  and 
convertible  souvenirs  of  the  places  they  had  visited. 
By  the  sale,  or  sometimes  by  the  pledge,  of  these 
accumulated  impedimenta  of  travel,  Eugene  made 
good  his  retreat  to  America,  where  he  landed  with 
empty  pockets  and  an  inexhaustible  fund  of  mirth 
ful  stories  and  invaluable  experience. 

On  arriving  in  New  York,  Field  had  to  seek 
the  Western  Union  Telegraph  office  to  secure 
funds  for  the  necessary  transportation  to  St.  Louis. 
These  Mr.  Gray  furnished  so  liberally  that  Eugene 
promptly  invested  the  surplus  in  a  French  poodle, 
which  he  carried  in  triumph  back  to  Missouri  as 
a  memento  of  his  sojourn  in  Paris.  This  costly 
pet,  the  sole  exhibit  of  his  foreign  travel,  he  named 
McSweeny,  in  memory,  I  suppose,  of  the  pleasant 
days  he  had  spent  in  Ireland. 

Years  afterward  I  remember  to  have  been  with 
Field  when  he  opened  a  package  containing  a 
watch,  which  for  more  than  a  decade  had  been  an 


MRS.    MELVIN  L.   GRAY. 


CHOICE    OF   A   PKOFESSION          101 

unredeemed  witness  to  his  triumphant  entry  into 
and  impecunious  exit  from  Naples  or  Florence — 
I  forget  which. 

Mrs.  Below,  Field's  sister-in-law,  in  her  little 
brochure,  "  Eugene  Field  in  His  Home,"  preserves 
a  letter  written  by  him  from  Rome  to  a  friend  in 
Ireland,  in  which  may  be  traced  the  bent  of  his 
mind  to  take  a  whimsical  view  of  all  things  com 
ing  within  the  range  of  his  observation.  In  this 
he  bids  farewell  to  political  discussion: 

For  since  the  collapse  of  the  Greeley  and  Brown 
movement  I  have  given  over  all  hope  of  rescuing  my 
torn  and  bleeding  country  from  Grant  and  his  min 
ions,  and  have  resolved  to  have  nothing  more  to  do 
with  politics.  Methinks,  my  country  will  groan  to 
hear  this  declaration ! 

And  there  is  the  following  description  of  how 
he  was  enjoying  himself  in  Italy,  with  the  last  re 
mittances  of  his  patrimony  growing  fewer  and 
painfully  less: 

We  have  been  two  months  in  Nice  and  a  month  or 
so  travelling  in  Italy.  Two  weeks  we  passed  in 
Naples,  and  a  most  delightful  place  we  found  it.  Its 
natural  situation  is  simply  charming,  though  the  cli 
mate  is  said  to  be  very  unhealthy.  I  climbed  Vesu 
vius  and  peered  cautiously  into  the  crater.  It  was  a 


102  EUGENE  FIELD 

glorious  sight — nothing  else  like  it  in  the  world ! 
Such  a  glorious  smell  of  brimstone !  Such  enliven 
ing  whiffs  of  hot  steam  and  sulphuric  fumes !  Then 
too  the  grand  veil  of  impenetrable  white  smoke  that 
hung  over  the  yawning  abyss!  No  wonder  people 
rave  about  this  crater  and  no  wonder  poor  Pliny  lost 
his  life  coming  too  near  the  fascinating  monster. 
The  ascent  of  Vesuvius  is  no  mean  undertaking,  and 
I  advise  all  American  parents  to  train  their  children 
especially  for  it  by  drilling  them  daily  upon  their 
backyard  ash-heaps. 

His  descent  of  Vesuvius  was  made  "  upon  a  dead 
run,"  and  he  "  astonished  the  natives  by  my  [his] 
celerity  and  recklessness." 

This  letter  was  written  on  Washington's  birth 
day,  1873,  and  in  later  years  the  omission  of  any 
reference  to  the  anniversary  would  have  thrown 
suspicion  on  its  genuineness;  but  Field  had  not 
yet  begun  to  reckon  life  by  anniversaries.  Neither 
is  there  in  it  a  shadow  of  the  impending  crisis  in 
his  finances  nor  a  suggestion  of  another  reason  that 
robbed  his  return  voyage  of  all  distressing  thoughts 
of  retreat. 


CHArTEK  VII 
MARRIAGE  AND   EARLY  DOMESTIC  LIFE 

And  now  I  come  to  that  event  in  the  life  of  Eu 
gene  Field  which  has  naturally  attracted  the  widest 
interest  among  all  who  have  delighted  in  his  writ 
ten  tributes  to  womankind  and  mother  love.  In  his 
memorial  to  Mrs.  Gray,  Field  has  given  expression 
to  his  special  reverence  for  the  love  between  parent 
and  child.  "For  my  dear  mother,"  he  wrote,  "went 
from  me  so  many  years  ago  that  when  I  come  to 
speak  of  the  blessedness  of  a  mother's  love,  I  hardly 
know  whereof  I  speak,  it  is  all  so  far,  so  very  far 
away,  and  withal  so  precious,  so  sacred  a  thing." 
This  note  recurs  constantly  through  his  writings, 
and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  the  love  of  a 
man  for  a  woman  should  have  come  early  to  a  youth 
whose  heart  had  always  felt  the  yearning  for  some 
thing  more  tender  and  personal  than  the  utmost 
kindness  of  those  upon  whose  affections  others  had 
equal  or  greater  claims. 

Through  his  boyhood  and  school  days,  Field's  af 
fection  for  the  petticoated  sex  had  been  tempered 
by  an  irresistible  impulse  to  tease  all  the  daughters 
103 


104  EUGEXE  FIELD 

of  Eve.  It  is  doubtful  if  his  affections  were  ever 
more  seriously  engaged  by  the  girls  of  Amherst 
or  the  young  ladies  of  Williams  and  Knox  than 
was  his  attention  by  the  regular  studies  of  school 
or  college.  He  came  to  both  in  his  own  way  and 
time;  with  the  difference  that  when  he  once  felt 
the  touch  of  the  inevitable  maiden's  hand  in  his,  he 
responded  with  an  immediate  ardor  far  different 
from  the  slow  and  eccentric  manner  in  which  he 
wooed  the  love  of  scholarship  and  letters. 

It  was  while  a  junior  at  the  University  of  Mis 
souri  that  Eugene  Field  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Edgar  V.  Comstock,  the  sharer  of  the  European  trip 
and  experiences.  Now  Edgar's  parents  lived  at  St. 
Joseph,  and  with  them  five  sisters,  the  Misses  Ida, 
Carrie,  Georgia,  Julia  Sutherland,  and  Gussie  Com 
stock,  and  the  fairest  of  them  all  was  Julia,  albeit, 
at  the  time  her  brother  was  in  college,  she  was  still 
in  short  dresses.  What  more  natural  than  that 
Edgar's  elder  sisters  should  visit  him  during  his 
college  term  and  there  meet  and  be  attracted  by  the 
gaunt,  yet  already  unique  and  striking,  figure  of 
Eugene  Field,  the  most  unscholarly  student  and 
most  incorrigible  wag  in  Columbia?  Julia  was  too 
young  at  this  time,  in  the  estimation  of  her  sisters, 
to  travel  so  far  from  St.  Jo.  Besides,  what  in 
terest  would  a  little  girl  in  short  skirts  take  in  the 


EARLY   DOMESTIC    LIFE  105 

grave  and  intellectual  life  of  the  brother  and  his 
undergraduate  friends? 

Out  of  the  friendship  of  Eugene  and  Edgar  and 
the  visit  of  Edgar's  sisters  to  Columbia,  fate  was 
weaving  a  web  for  the  unsuspecting  subject  of  this 
narrative  which  was  not  to  be  denied  or  altered  by 
leaving  little  Julia  to  rusticate  at  home  like  another 
pretty  little  Cinderella.  But  this  is  not  a  fairy 
tale.  It  has  no  prince  or  glass  slippers  or  pumpkin 
coaches,  with  which  Field's  fancy  could  have  in 
vested  it.  When  the  two  friends  separated  on 
Commencement  Day,  after  Field  had  delivered  an 
oration  that  impressed  Miss  Ida  (Mrs.  Below),  be 
cause  of  "  his  pale  face  and  deep  voice,"  a  promise 
had  been  extorted  that  he  would  visit  the  Corn- 
stocks  in  their  home  in  St.  Joseph. 

In  the  usual  course  of  human  events  nothing 
further  of  concern  to  us  would  have  come  from  the 
exchange  of  these  common  civilities  of  student  life. 
Edgar  would  have  returned  to  his  home  and  for 
gotten  Eugene,  and  Eugene  would  have  gone  his 
way  and  never  known  that  Edgar  had  a  younger 
sister  Julia  sitting  at  the  gate  awaiting  the  coming 
of  her  prince.  But  shortly  after  returning  to  St. 
Louis,  Field  was  inspired  by  his  natural  roving  rest 
lessness — the  French  call  it  Fate — to  run  clear 
across  the  state  of  Missouri,  some  three  hundred 


106  EUGENE  FIELD 

miles,  to  see  what  kind  of  a  town  St.  Joseph  was 
and  incidentally  to  visit  his  college  friend.  Nearly 
twenty  years  later,  in  the  gathering  gloom  of  a 
rented  apartment  in  London,  the  still-constant  lover 
wrote  of  what  happenned  when  he  first  saw  "  Saint 
Jo,  Buchanan  County,"  in  the  early  seventies. 
There  he  first  met  "  the  brown-eyed  maiden  "  of  his 
song,  the  Julia  of  numberless  valentines  that  ran 
the  gamut  of  grave  and  gay  through  the  interven 
ing  years,  the  heroine  of  frequent  drives  which  they 
"  snailed  along,"  as  their  proper  horse  went  slow, 

In  those  leafy  aisles,  where  Cupid  smiles 
In  Lover's  Lane,  Saint  Jo. 

Ah!  sweet  the  hours  of  springtime 

When  the  heart  inclines  to  woo, 
And  it's  deemed  all  right  for  the  callow  wight 

To  do  what  he  wants  to  do. 

In  his  "  Auto- Analysis  "  Field  says,  "  I  favor 
early  marriage."  Even  if  Edgar  Comstock's  elder 
sisters  had  known  this,  it  is  doubtful  whether  the 
thought  would  have  crossed  their  minds  that  their 
brother's  chum  of  twenty-one  would  overlook  their 
more  mature  charms  (they  were  all  fair  to  look 
upon),  to  be  more  than  gracious  to  their  fourteen- 
year-old  sister.  Time  out  of  mind  sophisticated 


EARLY   DOMESTIC    LIEE  107 

sisters  of  sixteen  and  eighteen  have  regarded 
younger  sisters  as  altogether  out  of  the  sphere  of 
those  attentions  which  find  their  echo  in  wedding 
bells,  only  to  awake  some  bright  morning  to  find 
the  child  a  woman  and  the  attentive  friend  an  ac 
cepted  lover. 

So  it  happened  in  this  case.  While  her  sisters 
were  thinking  how  good  it  was  of  Field  to  take  so 
much  interest  in  a  mere  child,  their  long  afternoon 
drives  together  down  "  Lovers'  Lane,  Saint  Jo," 
had  come  to  that  happy  turn  that  ignores  all  imma 
turities  of  age  and  lays  the  life  of  a  man  at  the  feet 
of  the  maid — albeit,  the  feet  are  still  strangers  to 
the  French  heels  and  have  not  yet  known  the  witch 
ery  that  goes  with  long  dresses.  Once  sure  of  him 
self,  Field  lost  no  time  in  making  his  wishes  known 
not  only  to  Mistress  Julia,  but  to  her  astonished 
family.  She  listened  and  was  lost  and  won.  Her 
parents  expostulated  that  she  was  but  a  child. 
Field  had  no  difficulty  in  convincing  them  that  she 
would  outgrow  that.  He  pleaded  for  an  imme 
diate  marriage,  but  her  father  firmly  insisted  that 
though  Julia  might  not  be  too  young  to  love  and 
be  loved,  she  was  "  o'er  young  to  marry  yet." 
Field  was  forced  to  accept  the  sensible  decree 
against  the  early  realization  of  his  hopes  and  re 
turned  to  St.  Louis  with  the  understanding  that 


108  EUGENE  FIELD 

he  should  establish  himself  in  business  and  wait 
until  Miss  Comstock  was  eighteen. 

Whether  this  had  anything  to  do  with  Field's 
going  to  Europe  or  not  I  cannot  say.  It  had  noth 
ing  to  do  with  his  return,  for  his  term  of  waiting 
for  his  modern  Rachel  had  still  two  years  to  run 
when  he  got  back  from  Europe.  There  is  a  pretty 
story  told  that  after  all  arrangements  were  made 
for  his  European  trip  and  he  and  Edgar  Comstock, 
accompanied  by  Miss  Ida,  had  reached  New  York, 
she  and  her  brother  were  amazed  to  receive  a  note 
by  mail  saying,  "  Important  business  has  called  me 
back  to  St.  Joseph;  I  hope  you  will  pardon  my 
sudden  leave-taking."  They  knew  the  nature  of 
his  important  business  and  had  to  wait  with  what 
patience  they  could  command  while  he  posted  fif 
teen  hundred  miles  and  returned  with  barely 
time,  if  all  connections  served,  to  catch  the 
steamer. 

Field  never  dreamed  of  fulfilling  that  condition 
of  his  probation  which  required  him  to  become  es 
tablished  in  business.  If  he  had  done  so  the  date  of 
his  marriage  would  have  been  indefinitely  post 
poned.  He  returned  from  Europe,  as  we  have  seen, 
sans  the  better  part  of  his  patrimony,  in  the  spring 
of  1873,  and  instead  of  attempting  to  establish  him 
self  in  business,  immediately  set  himself  to  secure 


EAELY    DOMESTIC    LIFE  109 

an  abridgment  of  his  term  of  waiting.  The  years 
between  fourteen  and  eighteen  run  slow.  To  every 
true  lover  Time  moves  with  leaden  feet.  As 
Rosalind  tells  us,  "  Marry,  he  trots  hard  with  a 
young  maid  between  the  contract  of  her  marriage 
and  the  day  it  is  solemnized :  if  the  interim  be  but  a 
se'nnight,  Time's  pace  is  so  hard  that  it  seems  the 
length  of  seven  year."  What  wonder  then  if  the 
four  years  they  were  pledged  to  wait  seemed  an 
eternity,  and  that  both  set  themselves  to  abridge 
it  by  all  the  arts  and  persuasion  of  young  lovers. 
They  pleaded  and  contrived  so  cunningly  and  suc 
cessfully  that  the  obdurate  parents  finally  acceded 
to  their  wishes,  and  Eugene  Field  and  Julia  Suther 
land  Comstock  were  married  at  St.  Joseph  on  Octo 
ber  16th,  1873.  The  bride  "  at  that  time  was  a 
girl  of  sixteen,"  is  the  laconic  and  only  comment 
of  the  "  Auto- Analysis."  This  he  supplemented 
with  the  further  information,  "  we  have  had  eight 
children — three  daughters  and  five  sons." 

But  this  is  jumping  from  Saint  Jo  into  the  future 
more  than  a  score  of  years  in  advance  of  our  story. 
The  young  couple  spent  their  honeymoon  in  the 
East.  Field  took  especial  delight  in  showing  his 
bride  of  sixteen  the  wonders  of  New  York  and  in 
playing  practical  jokes  upon  her  unsophisticated 
nature,  thereby  keeping  her  in  a  perpetual  state  of 


110  EUGENE  FIELD     • 

amazement  or  of  terror  as  to  what  he  would  do  next. 
He  sought  to  make  her  at  home  at  Delmonico's  by 
ordering  "  boiled  pig's  feet  a  la  Saint  Jo,'7  with  a 
gravity  of  countenance  that  tested  the  solemnity  of 
the  waiters  and  provoked  the  protest,  "  Oh,  Eu 
gene  !  "  that  was  to  be  the  feminine  accompaniment 
to  his  boyish  humor  throughout  their  married  life. 
No  matter  how  often  Field  played  his  antics  before 
or  on  his  wife,  they  always  seemed  to  take  her  by 
surprise  and  evoked  a  remonstrance  in  which  pride 
over  his  mirthfulness  mollified  all  displeasure. 

By  the  time  Field  returned  to  St.  Louis  his  ready 
funds  were  exhausted  and  he  had  to  appeal  to  Mr. 
Gray  to  raise  more  by  mortgaging  the  balance  of 
his  interest  in  his  father's  property.  This  is  as  good 
a  place  as  any  to  take  leave  of  the  patrimony  that 
came  to  Field  at  the  death  of  his  father,  for  he  was 
never  to  see  any  more  dividends  from  that  source. 
When  the  loans  fell  due  there  were  no  funds  to  pay 
them,  nor  equity  in  the  land  to  justify  their  renewal. 
So  the  land  was  sold  and  bid  in  by  Mr.  Gray,  who 
holds  it  yet  and  would  gladly  dispose  of  it  for  what 
he  paid  out  of  his  pocket  and  the  goodness  of  his 
heart. 

Roswell  Field  tells  an  interesting  story  of  how 
their  father's  land  speculation  went  out  of  sight  in 
the  queer  mutations  that  befall  real  estate.  In  the 


* 


MRS.    EUGENE  FIELD. 


EARLY    DOMESTIC    LIFE  111 

year  before  Roswell  the  elder  died,  he  took  his 
younger  son  for  a  drive  in  the  country  south  of  St. 
Louis,  where  the  property  lies  unimproved  to  this 
day.  "  Rosy,"  said  the  father,  "  hold  on  to  your 
Carondelet  property.  In  fifteen  years  it  will  be 
worth  half  a  million  dollars,  and,  very  likely,  a 
million  and  a  half."  That  was  thirty-three  years 
ago  when  the  Carondelet  iron  furnaces  were  in  full 
blast  and  the  city  seemed  stretching  southward.  In 
1869  the  property  was  appraised  at  $125,000.  The 
panic  came  on  and  St.  Louis  changed  its  mind  and 
headed  toward  the  west,  where  the  best  part  of  the 
city  now  rears  its  mansions  and  wonders  how  it  ever 
dreamed  of  going  south.  There  Carondelet  still 
bakes  in  the  sun,  on  the  far  side  of  a  slough  which 
has  diverted  a  fortune  from  the  sons  of  the  sanguine 
Roswell  M.  Field,  the  elder. 

More  provident  than  his  brother,  Roswell  lived 
comfortably  on  his  share  for  nearly  seven  years, 
only  in  the  end  to  envy  the  superior  shrewdness  of 
Eugene,  who,  putting  his  portion  into  cash,  realized 
more  from  it,  and  spent  it  like  a  lord  while  it  lasted. 
I  must  confess  that  I  share  Roswell's  views,  for  the 
investment  which  Eugene  Field  made  in  the  two 
years  after  coming  of  age  in  spending  $20,000  on 
experience,  returned  to  him  many  fold  in  the  pro 
fession  he  was  finally  driven  to  adopt,  not  as  a 


EUGENE  FIELD 


pastime,  but  to  earn  a  livelihood  for  himself  and 
his  growing  family. 

Having  shot  his  bolt,  Field  went  to  work  as  a 
reporter  on  the  St.  Louis  Evening  Journal.  He 
was  not  much  of  a  success  as  a  reporter  for  the 
simple  reason  that  his  fancy  was  more  active  than 
his  legs  and  he  was  irresistibly  disposed  to  save 
the  latter  at  the  expense  of  the  former. 

The  best  pen  picture  I  have  been  able  to  secure 
of  Field  at  this  period  of  his  career  is  from  his 
life-long  friend,  William  C.  Buskett,  the  hero 
of  "  Penn  Yan  Bill,"  to  whom  Field  dedicated 
"  Casey's  Table  d'Hote,"  the  first  poem  in  "  A 
Little  Book  of  Western  Verse." 
'  "  My  association  with  Eugene  Field,"  says  Mr. 
Buskett,  "  began  in  St.  Louis,  Mo.,  in  1872.  We 
had  a  little  circle  of  friends  that  was  surely  to  be 
envied  in  that  we  were  fond  of  each  other  and  our 
enjoyment  was  pure  and  genuine.  In  1875  we 
formed  what  was  known  as  the  '  Arion  Quartette,' 
composed  of  Thomas  L.  Crawford,  now  clerk  in 
the  United  States  Circuit  Court  in  St.  Louis, 
Thomas  C.  Baker  (deceased),  Roswell  Martin 
Field,  a  brother  of  Eugene,  and  myself.  'Gene 
(as  he  was  always  called  by  his  intimates)  did  not 
sing  in  the  quartette,  though  he  had  a  good  voice. 
We  frequently  gave  entertainments,  at  which 


EARLY   DOMESTIC    LIFE  113 

Eugene  was  always  the  centre  of  attraction.  The 
'  Old  Sexton  '  was  his  favorite  song.  He  was  a 
great  mimic  and  tease,  and  was  always  bubbling 
over  with  fun.  At  that  time  he  was  living  on 
Adams  Street,  and  many  of  these  entertainments 
were  given  at  his  house.  His  household  then  con 
sisted  of  himself,  wife,  and  baby  '  Trotty/  the  pet 
name  given  his  eldest  daughter,  Mary  French 
Field,  and  with  them  Mrs.  Comstock,  mother  of 
Mrs.  Field,  Edgar  V.  and  Misses  Carrie,  Georgia, 
and  Gussie  Comstock,  a  delightful  family. 

"  There  was  a  genuine  bond  of  friendship 
among  us  all  then,  for  we  were  comparatively 
oblivious  to  care  and  trouble.  "We  were  all  poor, 
you  may  say,  earning  reasonable  salaries,  but  that 
never  seemed  to  worry  us  much.  If  one  had  a 
dollar  we  would  always  divide  and  the  crowd  was 
never $ a  cent  ahead,  but  we  defied  misfortune. 

"  Among  the  pranks  that  Eugene  used  to  play 
upon  his  wife  in  those  days  was  that  of  appearing 
at  some  of  our  rehearsals  on  a  warm  evening  in  a 
costume  that  never  failed  to  tease  her.  He  would 
walk  into  the  parlor  and  say :  '  Well,  boys,  let  us 
take  off  our  coats  and  take  it  easy;  it's  too  hot.' 
We  would  all  proceed  to  do  so.  When  Eugene 
would  remove  his  coat  he  would  display  a  red 
flannel  undershirt,  having  pinned  his  cuffs  to  his 
VOL.  I.— 8 


114  EUGENE  FIELD 

coat  sleeves  and  his  necktie  and  collar  to  his  shirt. 
He  placed  no  limit  on  his  humor." 

Who  of  those  at  all  intimate  with  Field  will  for 
get  the  enjoyment  he  took  in  trolling  forth,  in  a 
quaint,  quavering,  cracked,  but  tuneful  recitative, 

one  stanza  of  "  Ossian's  Serenade  " : 
« 

I'll  chase  the  antelope  over  the  plain 
The  tiger's  cub  I'll  bind  with  a  chain, 
The  wild  gazelle  with  its  silvery  feet 
I'll  give  to  thee  as  a  playmate  sweet. 
Then  come  with  me  in  my  light  canoe, 
While  the  sea  is  calm  and  the  sky  is  blue, 
For  I'll  not  linger  another  day 
For  storms  may  rise  and  love  decay. 

"Well,  this  was  a  snatch  that  lingered  in  his 
memory  from  the  old  days  in  Adams  Street,  St. 
Louis,  where  he  first  caught  it  from  the  lips  of  Mr. 
Buskett,  in  whose  family  it  was  an  heirloom. 
Field  finally  traced  it  to  its  source  through  per 
sistent  letters  written  to  himself  in  his  "  Sharps 
and  Flats  "  column  in  the  Chicago  Eecord. 

The  glad  wild  days  of  which  Mr.  Buskett  testi 
fies  were  passed  in  St.  Louis  after  Field's  return 
from  a  brief  experience  as  city  editor  of  the  St. 
Joseph  Gazette  in  1875-76.  The  time  is  fixed  by 
the  presence  of  "  Trotty  "  in  the  gypsy  circle,  who 


EARLY    DOMESTIC    LIFE  115 

was  the  best  bit  of  news  he  "  managed  to  acquire  " 
in  the  days  whereof  he  wrote : 

Oh,  many  a  peck  of  apples  and  of  peaches  did  I  get 
When  I  helped  'em  run  the  local  on  the   "  St.  Jo 
Gazette/' 

Judge  Henry  W.  Burke,  of  St.  Joseph,  is  au 
thority  for  this  story  of  the  time  when  he  was 
associated  with  Field  on  the  Gazette:  Burke  had 
been  sent  out  to  report  a  "  swell  society  event " 
in  the  eastern  part  of  the  city.  Kearly  all  the 
prominent  people  of  St.  Joseph  were  present  and 
the  names  of  all  were  published.  Burke's  story 
of  the  affair  was  a  column  long,  and  after  it  was 
written  Field  got  hold  of  the  copy  and  at  the  end 
of  the  list  of  those  present  added,  "  and  last  but 
not  least  the  handsome  and  talented  society  editor 
of  the  Gazette,  H.  W.  Burke."  The  feelings  of 
the  young  reporter  and  embryo  judge  may  be 
imagined. 

But  a  few  months  of  "  whooping  up  locals  on 
the  St.  Jo  Gazette  "  were  enough  for  Eugene,  who 
pined  for  the  broader  field  and  more  congenial 
associations  of  St.  Louis.  Thither  he  returned  in 
the  spring  of  1876,  and  the  Evening  Journal,  being  ' 
by  this  time  consolidated  with  the  Times,  he  be 
came  an  editorial  writer  and  paragrapher  on  the 


116  EUGENE    FIELD 

hyphenated  publication.  He  also  resumed  the 
eccentric  semi-bohemian  life  which  Mr.  Buskett 
has  rather  suggested  than  described.  He  had 
little  or  no  business  ability,  had  no  use  for  money 
except  to  spend  it,  and  therefore  early  adopted 
the  plan  of  leaving  to  Mrs.  Field  the  management 
of  their  household  expenditures.  To  her,  then,  as 
throughout  his  life,  was  paid  his  weekly  stipend — 
often  depleted  by  the  drafts  for  the  "  usual  V  "  or 
the  "  necessary  X  "  which  he  was  wont  to  draw  in 
advance  from  the  cashier  almost  every  week. 

Before  the  newspaper  cashier  had  risen  as  a 
life-saving  station  on  the  horizon  of  Eugene  Field's 
constant  impecuniosity,  his  father's  executor,  Mr. 
Gray,  had  been  the  object  of  his  intermittent  ap 
peals  for  funds  to  meet  pressing  needs.  The 
means  he  invented  to  wheedle  the  generous,  but 
methodical,  executor  out  of  these  appropriations 
afforded  Field  more  genuine  pleasure  than  the  suc 
cess  that  attended  them.  The  coin  they  yielded 
passed  through  his  fingers  like  water  through  a 
sieve,  but  the  enjoyment  of  his  happy  schemes 
abided  in  his  memory  and  also  in  that  of  his  con 
stant  friend  always.  One  of  Field's  most  effective 
methods  of  securing  an  advance  from  Mr.  Gray 
was  the  threat  of  going  on  the  stage  under  the 
assumed  name  of  Melvin  L.  Gray.  On  one  occa- 


EARLY   DOMESTIC    LIFE  117 

sion  Field  approached  him  for  money  for  living 
expenses,  and  being  met  with  what  appeared  to 
be  an  unrelenting  negative,  coolly  said:  "Very 
well,  if  you  cannot  advance  it  to  me  out  of  the 
estate  I  shall  be  compelled  to  go  on  the  stage.  But 
as  I  cannot  keep  my  own  name  I  have  decided  to 
assume  yours,  and  shall  have  lithographs  struck 
off  at  once.  They  will  read,  '  To-night,  M.  L. 
Gray,  Banjo  and  Specialty  Artist.' '  It  is  need 
less  to  say  that  the  much-needed  funds  were  found. 
But  whether  they  went  to  the  payment  of  living 
expenses,  to  the  importunity  of  some  threatening 
creditor,  or  were  divided  between  the  joys  of  the 
bibliomaniac  and  the  bon  vivant,  Field  in  his  most 
confiding  humor  never  disclosed  to  me. 

But  this  I  know,  that  one  of  these  always  re 
spectful,  if  apparently  threatening,  appeals  to  Mr. 
Gray,  was  the  basis  for  one  of  the  few  newspaper 
attacks  on  Eugene  Field  that  he  resented  deeply. 
Some  time  after  he  had  left  St.  Louis  and  was  en 
gaged  on  the  Denver  Tribune,  the  Spectator,  a 
weekly  paper  of  the  former  city,  contained  the 
following  gossip  regarding  him  which  was  written 
in  a  thoughtless  rather  than  an  intentionally  inimi 
cal  spirit: 

One  of  the  cleverest  young  journalists  of  this  city, 
a  few  years  ago,  was  Mr.  Eugene  Field,  whose  charm- 


118  EUGENE  FIELD 

ing  short  poems  and  witty  paragraphs  still  occasion 
ally  find  their  way  into  our  paper  from  Denver, 
where  he  is  now  located.  Mr.  Field  was  the  happy 
possessor  of  one  of  those  sunny  dispositions  which  is 
thoroughly  antagonistic  to  trouble  of  every  descrip 
tion;  he  absolutely  refused  to  entertain  the  black 
demon  under  any  pretext  whatever,  and  after  spend 
ing  a  small  fortune  with  the  easy  grace  of  a  prince, 
he  settled  down  to  doing  without  one  with  equal  grace 
and  nonchalance,  in  a  manner  more  creditable  to 
himself  than  satisfying  to  his  creditors.  Did  his  hat 
ter  or  tailor  present  an  untimely  bill,  the  gay  debon- 
naire  Eugene  would  scribble  on  the  back  thereof  an 
impromptu  rhyme  expressive  of  his  deep  regret  at  not 
being  able  to  offer  the  cash  instead,  and  return  the 
same  with  an  airy  grace  that  the  renowned  orator,  J. 
Wilkins  Micawber,  himself  might  have  envied. 

While  the  intellectual  prominences  upon  the 
cranium  of  our  friend  and  fellow-citizen  had  been 
well  looked  to,  Dame  Nature  totally  neglected  to  de 
velop  his  bump  of  veneration ;  age  possessed  no  quali 
ties,  wealth  and  position  no  prerogatives,  which  this 
singularly  constituted  young  man  felt  bound  to  re 
spect.  When  his  father's  executor,  an  able  and  ex 
ceedingly  dignified  member  of  the  St.  Louis  bar, 
would  refuse  to  respond  to  his  frequent  demands  for 
moneyed  advances,  the  young  reprobate  would  coolly 
elevate  his  heels  to  a  point  in  dangerous  proximity 
to  the  old  gentleman's  nose,  and  threaten  to  go  upon 


EARLY   DOMESTIC    LIFE  119 

the  stage,  taking  his  guardian's  honored  name  as  a 
stage  pseudonym  and  representing  himself  to  be  his 
son.  This  threat  generally  sufficed  to  bring  the  elder 
gentleman  to  terms,  as  he  knew  his  charge's  ability 
to  execute  as  well  as  to  threaten. 

He  was  an  inveterate  joker,  and  his  tendency  to 
break  out  without  regard  to  fitness  of  time  or  place 
into  some  mad  prank  made  him  almost  a  terror  to 
his  friends.  On  one  occasion  he  informed  a  young 
lady  friend  that  he  did  not  think  he  would  be  able  to 
come  to  her  wedding  because  he  had  such  a  terrible 
toothache.  "  Then  why  not  have  your  tooth  pulled 
out?"  said  the  young  lady.  "I  never  thought  of 
that,"  quoth  Eugene  gravely ;  "  I  guess  I  will." 
When  the  wedding  day  arrived,  among  the  other 
bridal  gifts  came  a  small  box  bearing  Mr.  Field's 
card,  and  reposing  on  a  velvet  cushion  inside  was  the 
identical  tooth  which  the  bride  had  advised  him  to 
have  extracted,  and  in  the  cavity  where  had  once 
throbbed  the  agonizing  nerve  was  neatly  stuffed  a 
fifty-dollar  bill. 

The  recollection  of  the  many  amusing  traits  and 
freaks  of  this  versatile  genius  affords  amusement  to 
the  innumerable  friends  of  his  to  this  day.  But  time 
which  sobers  us  all  has  doubtless  taken  some  of  the 
foam  and  sparkle  from  this  rare  spirit,  although  it 
would  be  hard  to  convince  his  friends  that  he  will 
ever  be  anything  but  the  gay  and  debonnaire  Eu 
gene. 


120  EUGENE  FIELD 

Mr.  Gray,  who  vouches  for  the  general  accuracy 
of  the  story  of  the  strange  wedding  present,  with 
its  costly  filling,  preserves  among  his  most  cher 
ished  mementoes  of  his  foster  son-in-law,  if  I  may 
be  allowed  the  expression,  Field's  prompt  repudia 
tion  of  that  paragraph  in  the  above  which  charged 
him  with  lack  of  respect  for  one  from  whom  he 
had  received  every  evidence  of  affection: 

DENVER,  June  25,  1883. 

DEAR  MR.  GRAY, 

A  copy  of  last  Saturday's  St.  Louis  Spectator  has 
just  arrived  and  I  am  equally  surprised,  pained  and 
indignant  to  find  in  it  a  personal  article  about  myself 
which  represents  me  in  the  untruthful  light  of  hav 
ing  been  disrespectful  and  impudent  to  you.  I  be 
lieve  you  will  bear  me  out  when  I  say  that  my  conduct 
towards  you  has  upon  all  occasions  been  respectful 
and  gentlemanly.  I  may  not  have  been  able  to  repay 
you  the  many  obligations  you  have  placed  me  under, 
but  I  have  always  regarded  you  with  feelings  of  af 
fectionate  gratitude  and  I  am  deeply  distressed  lest 
the  article  referred  to  may  create  a  widely  different 
impression.  Of  course  it  makes  no  difference  to  you, 
but  as  gratitude  is  about  all  I  have  in  this  world  to 
bestow  on  those  who  are  good  and  kind  to  me,  it  is 
not  right  that  I  should  be  advertised — even  in  a  jok 
ing  way — as  an  ingrate.  Yours  sincerely, 

EUGENE  FIELD. 


EARLY   DOMESTIC    LIFE  121 

This  letter  is  valuable  in  more  ways  than  the 
one  which  it  was  so  unnecessarily  written  to  serve. 
It  is  a  negative  admission  of  the  general  faithful 
ness  of  the  impression  left  by  Field  upon  those 
familiar  with  his  life  in  St.  Louis,  and  the  refer 
ence  to  gratitude  as  all  he  had  to  bestow  upon  his 
true  friends  will  be  recognized  as  genuine  by  all 
who  ever  came  near  enough  to  his  inner  life  to 
appreciate  its  sweetness  as  well  as  its  lightness. 
As  for  his  airy  method  of  disposing  of  insistent 
creditors  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  rhymes  on  the 
backs  of  their  bills  more  often  than  not  were  more 
to  them  than  the  dollars  and  cents  on  their  faces. 

During  the  second  period  of  his  life  in  St.  Louis 
two  sons  were  born  to  Field  and  his  wife,  Melvin 
G.,  named  after  the  "  Dear  Mr.  Gray,"  of  the  fore 
going  letter,  and  Eugene,  Jr.,  who,  being  born 
when  the  Pinafore  craze  was  at  its  height,  received 
the  nickname  of  "  Pinny,"  which  has  adhered  to 
him  to  the  present  time.  The  fact  that  Melvin 
of  all  the  children  of  Eugene  Field  was  never 
called  by  any  other  name  by  a  father  prone  to 
giving  pet  names,  more  or  less  fanciful,  to  every 
person  and  thing  with  which  he  came  in  contact, 
is,  I  take  it,  an  even  more  sincere  tribute  to  the 
high  respect  and  love,  if  not  reverence,  in  which 
he  held  Melvin's  godfather. 


122  EUGEXE  FIELD 

The  third  son  and  last  child  born  to  Field  dur 
ing  the  time  of  which  I  am  now  writing  appeared 
upon  the  scene,  with  his  two  eyes  of  wondrous 
blue,  very  like  his  father's,  at  Kansas  City,  whither 
the  family  had  moved  in  the  year  1880.  Al 
though  he  was  duly  christened  Frederick,  this  new 
comer  was  promptly  nicknamed  "  Daisy,"  because, 
forsooth,  Field  one  day  happened  to  fancy  that  his 
two  eyes  looked  like  daisies  peeping  up  at  him 
from  the  grass.  The  similitude  was  far  fetched, 
but  the  name  stuck. 

In  Kansas  City,  where  Field  went  from  St. 
Louis  to  assume  at  thirty  years  of  age  the  manag 
ing  editorship  of  the  Times  of  that  town,  the 
family  lived  in  a  rented  house  which  was  made 
the  rendezvous  for  all  the  light-hearted  members 
of  the  newspaper  and  theatrical  professions.  Per 
haps  I  cannot  give  a  more  faithful  picture  of 
Field's  life  through  all  this  period  than  is  con 
tained  in  the  following  unpublished  lines,  to  the 
original  manuscript  of  which  I  supplied  the  title, 
"  The  Good  Knight  and  His  Lady."  Perhaps  I 
should  explain  that  it  was  written  at  a  time  when 
Field  was  infatuated  with  the  stories  and  style 
of  the  early  English  narratives  of  knights  and 
ladies : 


EAELY   DOMESTIC   LIFE  123 


THE  GOOD  KNIGHT  AND  HIS  LADY 

Sooihly  there  was  no  lady  faire 
In  all  the  province  could  compare 

With  Lady  Julia  Field, 
The  noble  knight's  most  beauteous  wife 
For  whom  at  any  time  his  life 

He  would  righte  gladly  yield. 

'Twas  at  a  tourney  in  St.  Joe 

The  good  knight  met  her  first,  I  trow, 

And  was  enamoured,  straight; 
And  in  less  time  than  you  could  say 
A  pater  noster  he  did  pray 

Her  to  become  his  mate. 

And  from  the  time  she  won  his  heart, 
She  sweetly  played  her  wifely  part — 

Contented  with  her  lot! 
And  tho*  the  little  knightly  horde 
Came  faster  than  they  could  afford 

The  good  wife  grumbled  not. 

But  when  arrived  a  prattling  son, 

She  simply  said,  "  God's  will  be  done — 

This  babe  shall  give  us  joy!  " 
And  when  a  little  girl  appeared, 
The  good  wife  quoth:  "  'Tis  well — I  feared 

'Twould  be  another  boy!" 


124  EUGENE  FIELD 

She  leased  her  castle  by  the  year — 

Her  tables  groaned  with  sumptuous  cheer, 

As  epicures  all  say; 
She  paid  her  bills  on  Tuesdays,  when 
On  Monday  nights  that  best  of  men — 

Her  husband — drew  his  pay. 

And  often,  when  the  good  Jcnight  craved 
A  dime  wherewith  he  might  get  shaved, 

She  doled  him  out  the  same; 
For  these  and  other  generous  deeds 
The  good  and  honest  knight  must  needs 

Have  loved  the  kindly  dame. 

At  all  events,  lie  never  strayed 
From  those  hymeneal  vows  he  made 

When  their  two  loves  combined; 
A  matron  more  discreet  than  she 
Or  husband  more  devote  than  he 

It  would  be  hard  to  find. 
July  4th,  1885. 

And  so  in  very  sooth  it  would  have  been. 
Under  what  circumstances  and  with  what  purpose 
Field  wrote  this  I  cannot  now  recall,  if  I  ever  knew. 
Nothing  like  it  exists  among  my  many  manuscripts 
of  his.  It  is  written  in  pencil  on  what  appears 
to  be  a  sheet  from  a  pad  of  ledger  paper,  water 
marked  "  1879,"  a  fact  I  mention  for  the  benefit 


EARLY    DOMESTIC    LIFE  125 

of  his  bibliomaniac  admirers.  And,  what  is  most 
peculiar,  it  is  written  on  both  sides  of  the  sheet — 
something  most  unusual  with  Field,  except  in  cor 
respondence — where  the  economy  of  the  old  half 
ounce  three-cent  postage  and  his  New  England 
training  prevailed  over  his  disposition  to  be  lavish 
with  paper  if  not  with  ink.  Anyway,  Field's 
"  Good  Knight  and  His  Lady  "  gives  a  clearer  in 
sight  into  his  home  relations  than  any  other  thing 
that  has  been  preserved  respecting  them.  That 
it  was  prepared  with  care  is  witnessed  by  several 
interlineations  in  ink;  sealed  by  a  blot  of  his 
favorite  red  ink  on  the  corner,  which  for  a  wonder 
does  not  bear  the  marks  of  the  deliberate  blemishes 
with  which  he  frequently  embellished  his  neatest 
manuscripts. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
EARLY  EXPERIENCES   IN   JOURNALISM 

Although  Eugene  Field  made  his  first  essay  in 
journalism  as  a  reporter,  there  is  not  the  shadow 
of  a  tradition  that  he  made  any  more  progress 
along  the  line  of  news-gathering  and  descriptive 
writing  than  he  did  as  a  student  at  Williams.  He 
had  too  many  grotesque  fancies  dancing  through 
his  whimsical  brain  to  make  account  or  "  copy  " 
of  the  plain  ordinary  facts  that  for  the  most  part 
make  up  the  sum  of  the  news  of  the  average  re 
porter's  day.  What  he  wrote  for  the  St.  Louis 
,  Journal  or  Times-Journal,  therefore,  had  little  re 
lation  to  the  happening  he  was  sent  out  to  report, 
but  from  the  outset  it  possessed  the  quality  that 
attracted  readers.  The  peculiarities  and  not  the 
conventions  of  life  appealed  to  him  and  he  de 
voted  himself  to  them  with  an  assiduity  that  lasted 
while  he  lived.  Thus  when  he  was  sent  by  the 
Journal  to  Jefferson  City  to  report  the  proceed 
ings  of  the  Missouri  State  Legislature,  what  his 
paper  got  was  not  an  edifying  summary  of  that 
120 


EXPERIENCES    IN    JOURNALISM      127 

unending  grist  of  mostly  irrelevant  and  immaterial 
legislation  through  the  General  Assembly  hopper, 
but  a  running  fire  of  pungent  comment  on  the 
idiosyncracies  of  its  officers  and  members.  He 
would  attach  himself  to  the  legislators  whose  per 
sonal  qualities  afforded  most  profitable  ammuni 
tion  for  sport  in  print.  He  shunned  the  sessions 
of  Senate  and  House  and  held  all  night  sessions  of 
story  and  song  with  the  choice  spirits  to  be  found 
on  the  floors  and  in  the  lobbies  of  every  western 
legislature.  I  wonder  why  I  wrote  "  western " 
when  the  species  is  as  ubiquitous  in  Maine  as  in 
Colorado?  From  such  sources  .Field  gleaned  the 
infinite  fund  of  anecdote  and  of  character-study 
which  eventually  made  him  the  most  sought-for 
boon  companion  that  ever  crossed  the  lobby  of  a 
legislature  or  of  a  state  capital  hotel  in  Missouri, 
Colorado,  or  Illinois.  He  was  a  looker-on  in  the 
legislative  halls,  and  right  merrily  he  lampooned 
everything  he  saw.  Nothing  was  too  trivial  for 
his  notice,  nothing  so  serious  as  to  escape  his  ridi 
cule  or  satire. 

There  was  little  about  his  work  at  this  time  that 
gave  promise  of  anything  beyond  the  spicy  facil 
ity  of  a  quick-witted,  light-hearted  western  para- 
grapher.  Looking  back  it  is  possible,  however,  to 
discover  something  of  the  flavor  of  the  inextin- 


128  EUGENE    FIELD 

guishable  drollery  that  persisted  to  his  last  printed 
work  in  such  verses  as  these  in  the  St.  Louis  Jour 
nal: 

THE  NEW  BABY 

We  welcome  thee,  eventful  morn 
Since  to  the  poet  there  is  born 

A  son  and  Tieir; 
A  fuzzy  babe  of  rosy  hue, 
And  staring  eyes  of  misty  blue 

Sans  teeth,  sans  hair. 

Let  those  who  know  not  wedded  joy 
Revile  this  most  illustrious  boy — 

This  genial  child! 
But  let  the  brother  poets  raise 
Their  songs  and  chant  their  sweetest  lays 

To  him  reviled. 

Then  strike,  0  bards,  your  tuneful  lyres, 
'Awake,  0  rhyming  souls,  your  fires, 

And  use  no  stint! 

Bring  forth  the  festive  syrup  cup — 
Fill  every  loyal  beaker  up 

With  peppermint! 
March,  1878. 

In  the  spring  of  18Y9  the  St.  Louis  Times- 
Journal  printed  the  following   April  verses   by 


EXPERIENCES    IN   JOURNALISM      129 

Field,  which  were  copied  without  the  author's 
name  by  London  Truth,  and  went  the  rounds  of 
the  papers  in  this  country,  credited  to  that  mis 
named  paper,  and  attributed,  much  to  Field's  glee, 
to  William  S.  Gilbert,  then  at  the  height  of  his 
Pinafore  and  Bab  Ballad  fame: 


APRIL  VESPERS 

The  turtles  drum  in  the  pulseless  bay, 
The  crickets  creak  in  the  prickful  hedge, 
The  bull-frogs  boom  in  the  puddling  sedge 

And  the  whoopoe  whoops  its  vesper  lay 
Away 

In  the  twilight  soft  and  gray. 

Two  lovers  stroll  in  the  glinting  gloam — 
His  hand  in  herfn  and  Jier'n  in  his — 
She  blushes  deep — he  is  talking  biz — 

They  hug  and  hop  as  they  listless  roam — 
They  roam — 

It's  late  when  they  get  back  home. 

Down  by  the  little  wicket-gate, 

Down  where  the  creepful  ivy  grows, 
Down  where  the  sweet  nasturtium  blows, 
A  box-toed  parent  lies  in  wait — 
In  wait 

For  the  maiden  and  her  mate. 
VOL.  I.— 9 


130  EUGENE   FIELD 

Let  crickets  creak  and  bull-frogs  boom, 
The  whoopoe  wail  in  the  distant  dell — 
Their  tuneful  throbs  will  ne'er  dispel 

The  planted  pain  and  the  rooted  gloom — 
The  gloom 

Of  the  lover's  dismal  doom. 

Just  by  the  way  of  illustrating  in  f ac-simile  and 
preserving  the  character  of  the  newspaper  para- 
grapher's  work  in  the  last  century,  the  following 
"  Funny  Fancies,"  by  Field,  from  the  St.  Louis 
Journal  of  August  3d,  1878,  may  be  of  interest: 

A  green  Christmas — No,  no,  we 
mean  a  green  peach  makes  a  fat  graveyard. 

A  philanthropic  citizen  of  Mem 
phis  has  wedded  a  Miss  Hoss.  He  doubt 
less  took  her  for  wheel  or  whoa. 

We  have  tried  every  expedient 
and  we  find  that  the  simple  legend  :  u  Small 
pox  in  this  House  "  will  preserve  the  most 
uninterrupted  bliss  in  an  editorial  room. 

There  is  a  moment  when  a  man's 
soul  revolts  against  the  dispensations  of 
Providence,  and  that  is  when  he  finds  that 
his  wife  has  been  using  his  flannel  trousers 
to  wrap  up  the  ice  in. 

To  the  average  Athenian  the  dear 
est  spot  on  earth  is  the  Greece  spot. 

Mr.  Deer  was  hung  at  Atlanta. 

Of  course  he  died  game. 


EXPERIENCES    IN   JOURNALISM      131 

'Tis  pleasant  at  the  close  of  day 

To  play 

Croquet. 
And  if  your  partner  makes  a  miss 

Why  kiss 

The  siss. 
But  if  she  gives  your  chin  a  thwack, 

Why  whack 

Her  back  I 

A  great  many  newspaper  men  lie 
awake  night  after  night  mentally  debating 
whether  they  will  leave  their  property  to 
some  charitable  institution  or  spend  it  the 
next  day  for  something  with  a  little  lemon 
in  it. 

It  was  during  his  earlier  connection  with  the 
St.  Louis  Journal  that  Field  was  assigned  the  duty 
of  misreporting  Carl  Schurz,  when  that  peripa 
tetic  statesman  stumped  Missouri  in  1874  as  a  can 
didate  for  re-election  to  the  United  States  Sen 
ate.  Field  in  later  years  paid  unstinted  tribute  to 
the  logic,  eloquence,  and  patriotic  force  of  Mr. 
Schurz's  futile  appeals  to  the  rural  voters  of  Mis 
souri.  But  during  the  trip  his  reports  were  in 
nowise  conducive  to  the  success  of  the  Republican 
and  Independent  candidate.  Mr.  Schurz's  only 
remonstrances  were,  "  Field,  why  will  you  lie  so 
outrageously  ? "  It  was  only  by  the  exercise  of 
careful  watchfulness  that  Mr.  Schurz's  party  was 
saved  from  serious  compromise  through  the  prac- 


132  EUGENE   FIELD 

tical  jokes  and  snares  which  Field  laid  for  the 
grave,  but  not  revered  Senator.  On  one  occasion 
when  a  party  of  German  serenaders  appeared  at 
the  hotel  where  the  party  was  stopping,  before  Mr. 
Schurz  had  completed  a  necessary  change  of  toilet 
Field  stepped  out  on  the  veranda,  and,  waving  the 
vociferous  cornet  and  trombone  to  silence,  pro 
ceeded  to  address  the  crowd  in  broken  English. 
As  he  went  on  the  cheering  soon  subsided  into 
amazed  silence  at  the  heterodox  doctrines  he 
uttered,  until  the  bogus  candidate  was  pushed  un 
ceremoniously  aside  by  the  real  one.  Mr.  Schurz 
had  great  difficulty  in  saving  Field  from  the  just 
wrath  of  the  crowd,  which  had  resented  his  broken 
English  more  than  his  political  heresies. 

On  another  occasion  when  there  was  a  momen 
tary  delay  on  the  part  of  the  gentleman  who  was 
to  introduce  Mr.  Schurz,  Field  stepped  to  the  front 
and  with  a  strong  German  accent  addressed  the 
gathering  as  follows: 

LADIES  AND  SHENTLEMEN:  I  haf  such  a  pad  colt 
dot  et  vas  not  bossible  for  me  to  make  you  a  speedg 
to-night,  but  I  haf  die  bleasure  to  introduce  to  you 
my  prilliant  chournatistic  friend  Euchene  Fielt,  who 
will  spoke  you  in  my  blace. 

It  was  all  done  so  quickly  and  so  seriously  that 
the  joke  was  complete  before  Mr.  Schurz  could 


EXPERIENCES    IN   JOURNALISM      133 

push  himself  into  the  centre  of  the  stage.  Annoy 
ance  and  mirth  mingled  in  the  explanations  that 
followed.  A  love  of  music  common  to  both  was 
the  only  thing  that  made  Field  tolerable  to  his 
serious-minded  elder. 

Eegarding  Eugene  Field's  work  upon  the  St. 
Jo  Gazette,  it  was  local  in  character  and  of  the 
most  ephemeral  nature.  There  is  preserved  in 
the  pocket-books  of  some  old  printers  in  the  West 
the  galley  proof  of  a  doggerel  rhyme  read  by  him 
at  the  printers'  banquet,  at  St.  Joseph,  Mo.,  Janu 
ary  1st,  1876.  It  details  the  fate  of  a  "  Kat " 
printer,  who,  in  addition  to  the  mortal  offence  of 
"  spacing  out  agate  "  type  with  brevier,  sealed  his 
doom  by  stepping  on  the  tail  of  our  old  friend,  the 
French  poodle  McSweeny.  The  execution  of  the 
victim's  sentence  was  described  as  follows: 

His  body  in  the  fatal  cannon  then  they  force 

Shouting  erstwhile  in  accents  madly  hoarse, 

"  Death  to  all  Rats  " — the  fatal  match  is  struck, 

The  cannon  pointed  upwards — then  Tcerchuck  ! 

Fiz!  Snap!  Ker — loom!  Slug  14' s  grotesque  form 

Sails  out  to  ride  a  race  upon  the  storm. 

Up  through  the  roof,  and  up  into  the  sky — 

As  if  he  sought  for  "  cases  "  up  on  high, 

Till  like  a  rocket,  or  like  one  who's  trusted, 

He  fell  again  to  earth — completely  busted. 


134  EUGENE    FIELD 

There  is  not  much  suggestion,  or  even  prom 
ise,  in  this  doggerel,  of  the  Eugene  Field  whose 
verses  of  occasion  were  destined  within  a  dozen 
years  to  be  sought  for  in  every  newspaper  office  in 
America. 

Long  before  Field  learned  the  value  of  his  time 
and  writing,  he  began  to  appreciate  the  value  of 
printer's  ink  and  showed  much  shrewdness  in  court 
ing  its  favor.  He  did  not  wait  for  chance  to  bring 
his  wares  into  notice,  but  early  joined  the  circle  of 
busy  paragraphers  who  formed  a  wider,  if  less 
distinguished,  mutual  admiration  society  than  that 
free-masonry  of  authorship  which  at  one  time  almost 
limited  literary  fame  in  the  United  States  to  Henry 
James,  William  Dean  Howells,  Charles  Dudley 
Warner,  and  Thomas  Bailey  Aldrich.  Kobert  J. 
Burdette  is  about  the  only  survivor  of  the  coterie 
of  paragraphers,  who,  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago, 
made  such  papers  as  the  Burlington  Hawkeye,  the 
Detroit  Free  Press,  the  Oil  City  Derrick,  the  Dan- 
bury  News,  and  the  Cincinnati  Saturday  Night, 
widely  quoted  throughout  the  Union  for  their 
clever  squibs  and  lively  sallies.  Field  put  him 
self  in  the  way  of  the  reciprocating  round  of 
mutual  quotation  and  spicy  comment,  and  before 
he  left  St.  Louis  his  "  Funny  Fancies "  in  the 
Times-Journal  had  the  approval  of  his  fellow- 


EXPERIENCES    IN   JOURNALISM      135 

jesters  if  they  could  not  save  that  paper  from  its 
approaching  doom. 

Before  leaving  St.  Louis,  however,  Eugene 
Field  was  to  strike  one  of  the  notes  that  was  to 
vibrate  so  sweetly  and  surely  to  his  touch  unto  the 
end.  He  had  lost  one  baby  son  in  St.  Jo,  and 
Melvin  was  a  mere  large-eyed  infant  when  his 
father  was  moved  at  Christmas-time,  1878,  to  write 
his  "  Christmas  Treasures,"  which  he  frequently, 
though  incorrectly,  declared  to  be  "  the  first  verse 
I  ever  wrote."  He  probably  meant  by  this  that 
it  was  the  first  verse  he  ever  wrote  "  that  he  cared 
to  preserve,"  those  specimens  I  have  introduced  be 
ing  only  given  as  marking  the  steps  crude  and 
faltering  by  which  he  attained  a  facility  and  tech 
nique  in  the  art  of  versification  seldom  surpassed. 

In  Mr.  Field's  "  Auto-Analysis  "  will  be  found 
the  following  reference  to  this  early  specimen  of 
his  verse: 

I  wrote  and  published  my  first  bit  of  verse  in  1879  : 
It  was  entitled  "  Christmas  Treasures  "  [see  "  Little 
Book  of  Western  Verse  "].  Just  ten  years  later  I  be 
gan  suddenly  to  write  verse  very  frequently. 

Which  merely  indicates  what  little  track  Field 
kept  of  how,  when,  or  where  he  wrote  the  verse 
that  attracted  popular  attention  and  by  which  he 


136  EUGENE   FIELD 

is  best  remembered.  I  need  hardly  say  that  with 
a  few  noteworthy  exceptions  his  most  highly- 
prized  poems  were  written  before  1888,  as  a  refer 
ence  to  the  "Little  Book  of  Western  Verse/' 
above  cited,  and  which  was  published  in  1889,  will 
clearly  show. 

In  the  year  1880  Field  received  and  accepted 
an  offer  of  the  managing  editorship  of  the  Kansas 
City  Times,  a  position  which  he  filled  with  singu 
lar  ability  and  success,  but  which  for  a  year  put  an 
almost  absolute  extinguisher  on  his  growth  as  a 
writer.  Under  his  management  the  Times  be 
came  the  most  widely-quoted  newspaper  west  of 
the  Mississippi.  He  made  it  the  vehicle  for  every 
sort  of  quaint  and  exaggerated  story  that  the  free 
and  rollicking  West  could  furnish  or  invent.  He 
was  not  particular  whether  the  Times  printed  the 
first,  fullest,  or  most  accurate  news  of  the  day  so 
long  as  its  pages  were  racy  with  the  liveliest  ac 
counts  and  comments  on  the  daily  comedy,  eccen 
tricity,  and  pathos  of  life. 

Right  merrily  did  he  abandon  himself  to  the 
buoyant  spirits  of  an  irrepressible  nature.  Never 
sparing  himself  in  the  duties  of  his  exacting  posi 
tion  on  the  Times,  neither  did  he  spare  himself  in 
extracting  from  life  all  the  honey  of  comedy  there 
was  in  it.  His  salary  did  not  begin  to  keep  pace 


EXPERIENCES    IN   JOURNALISM      137 

with  his  tastes  and  his  pleasures.  But  he  faced 
debts  with  the  calm  superiority  of  a  genius  to 
whom  the  world  owed  and  was  willing  to  pay  a 
living. 

There  lived  in  Kansas  City,  when  Field  was  at 
the  height  of  his  local  fame  there,  one  George 
Gaston,  whose  cafe  and  bar  was  the  resort  of  all 
the  choice  spirits  of  the  town.  He  fairly  wor 
shipped  Field,  who  made  his  place  famous  by  en 
tertainments  there,  and  by  frequent  squibs  in  the 
Times.  Although  George  had  a  rule  suspending 
credit  when  the  checks  given  in  advance  of  pay 
day  amounted  to  more  than  a  customer's  weekly 
salary,  he  never  thought  of  enforcing  it  in  the 
case  of  'Gene.  More  than  once  some  particularly 
fine  story  or  flattering  notice  of  the  good  cheer 
at  Gaston's  sufficed  to  restore  Field's  credit  on 
George's  spindle.  At  Christmas-time  that  credit 
was  under  a  cloud  of  checks  for  two  bits  (25  cents), 
four  bits,  and  a  dollar  or  more  each  to  the  total 
of  $135.50,  when,  touched  by  some  simple  piece 
that  Field  wrote  in  the  Times,  Gaston  presented 
his  bill  for  the  amount  endorsed  "  paid  in  full." 
When  the  document  was  handed  to  Field  he 
scanned  it  for  a  moment  and  then  walked  over  to 
the  bar,  behind  which  George  was  standing  smil 
ing  complacently  and  eke  benevolently. 


138  EUGENE   FIELD 

"  How's  this,  George?  "  said  Field. 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right,"  returned  George. 

"  But  this  is  receipted,"  continued  the  ex-debtor. 

"  Sure,"  said  the  gracious  creditor. 

"  Do  I  understand/'  said  Field,  with  a  gravity 
that  should  have  warned  his  friend,  "  that  I  have 
paid  this  bill? " 

"  That's  what,"  was  George's  laconic  assurance. 

"  In  full?  " 

"  In  full's  what  I  said,"  murmured  the  unsus 
pecting  philanthropist,  enjoying  to  the  full  his  own 
magnanimity. 

"  Well,  sir/'  said  Field,  raising  his  voice  with 
out  relaxing  a  muscle,  "  Is  it  not  customary  in 
Missouri  when  one  gentleman  pays  another  gentle 
man  in  full  to  set  up  the  wine  ?  " 

George  could  scarcely  respire  for  a  moment, 
but  gradually  recovered  sufficiently  to  mumble, 
"  Gents,  this  is  one  on  yours  truly.  What'll  you 
have?" 

And  with  one  voice  Field's  cronies,  who  were 
witnesses  to  the  scene,  ejaculated,  "  Make  it  a 
case."  And  they  made  a  night  of  it,  such  as  would 
have  rejoiced  the  hearts  of  the  joyous  spirits  of 
the  "  Noctes  Ambrosianse." 

From  such  revels  and  such  fooling  Field  often 
went  to  work  next  day  without  an  hour's  sleep. 


EXPERIENCES    IN   JOURNALISM      139 

While  in  Kansas  City  Field  wrote  that  pathetic 
tale  of  misplaced  confidence  that  records  the  fate 
of  "  Johnny  Jones  and  his  sister  Sue."  It  was 
entitled  "  The  Little  Peach  "  and  has  had  a  vogue 
fully  as  wide,  if  not  as  sentimental,  as  "  Little  Boy 
Blue."  Field's  own  estimate  of  this  production 
is  somewhat  bluntly  set  out  in  the  following  note 
upon  a  script  copy  of  it  made  in  1887: 

Originally  printed  in  the  Kansas  City  Times,  re 
cited  publicly  by  Henry  E.  Dixey,  John  A.  Mackey, 
Sol  Smith  Russell,  and  almost  every  comedian  in 
America.  Popular  but  rotten. 

The  last  word  is  not  only  harsh  but  unjust.  The 
variation  of  the  closing  exclamation  of  each  verse 
is  as  skilful  as  anything  Field  ever  did.  Different, 
indeed,  from  the  refrain  in  "  Wynken,  Blynken 
and  Nod,"  but  touching  the  chords  of  mirth  with 
certainty  and  irresistible  effect.  Field  might  have 
added,  that  none  of  the  comedians  he  has  named 
ever  gave  to  the  experience  of  "  Johnny  Jones  and 
His  Sister  Sue  "  in  public  recitation  the  same  mel 
ancholy  humor  and  pathetic  conclusion  as  did  the 
author  of  their  misfortunes  and  untimely  end  him 
self.  As  a  penance,  perhaps,  for  the  injustice 
done  to  "  The  Little  Peack  "  in  the  quoted  com 
ment,  Field  spent  several  days  in  1887  in  trans- 


140  EUGENE    FIELD 

lating  it,  so  to  speak,  into  Greek  characters,  in 
which  it  appears  in  the  volume  given  to  Mrs. 
Thompson,  which  is  herewith  reproduced  in  fac 
simile  as  a  specimen  of  one  of  the  grotesque  fan 
cies  Field  indulged: 


ia.c. 


X 


A  kirt\t    nraf  cV  Q  ^ 

A     XirtAt      TUac    cd    '&!&*£!'  *vt~ 

.*•         r    77.     Q,        /     .         C  ?\   /ft     r~    /i.     ft 
fit,     *H)    (TV?  < 

/y 


Ir    y/ov*. 


CrC  tiosj    clr    *>'* 

7^0-0    KA/tt    to       -n 
'  ' 


3o/r  ^iirt/^l    77^0-0  'KA/tt    to 


0 


a,  kv        ^   Jiv 
trcl/*  OY  lvt(     it 


3~n  (Toxro/if 


EXPERIENCES    IN    JOURNALISM      141 


ifrflP  %  Mf'i     da,A\,  Tn  ^aJnlj 
J*  -nAoVctJ    Tcu,  art)  */V    0~/Vu  t  O 


ro 


f    r«  /B 

d 


J'A/l 

4( 

# 


For  the  benefit  of  those  unfamiliar  with  the 
Greek  characters,  I  have  retranslated  this  poem 
into  corresponding  English,  which  the  reader  can 
compare  with  his  version  of  "  The  Little  Peach." 

THE  PEAR 
(In  English  Equivalent.) 

A  little  pear  in  a  garden  grue 
A  little  pear  of  emerald  'ue, 
Kissed  li  the  sun  and  bathed  hi  the  due, 
It  grew. 

One  da,  going  that  garden  thro' 
That  little  pear  kame  to  the  fue 
Of  Thomas  Smith  and  'is  sister  Sue 
Those  tou! 


142  EUGENE   FIELD 

Up  at  the  pear  a  Hub  tha  thrue 
Down  from  the  stem  on  uikh  it  grue 
Fell  the  little  pear  of  emerald  'ue 
Peek-a-boo! 

Tom  took  a  bite  and  Sue  iook  one  too 
And  then  the  trouble  began  to  brue 
Trouble  the  doctors  Wouldn't  subdue 

Too  true  (paragorik  too?). 

Under  the  turf  fare  the  daisies  grue 
They  planted  Tom  and  'is  sister  Sue 
And  their  little  souls  to  the  angels  flue 
Boo  'oo! 

But  as  to  the  pear  of  emerald  'ue 
Kissed  bi  the  sun  and  bathed  bi  the  due 
I'll  add  that  its  mission  on  earth  is  thro' 
Adieu. 


CHAPTEE  IX 

IN   DENVER,    1881-1883 

It  was  in  Denver  that  Eugene  Eield  entered 
upon  and  completed  the  final  stage  of  what  may 
be  called  the  hobble-de-hoy  period  in  his  life  and 
literary  career.  He  went  to  the  capital  of  Colo 
rado  the  most  indefatigable  merry-maker  that  ever 
turned  night  into  day,  a  past-master  in  the  art  of 
mimicry,  the  most  inveterate  practical  joker  that 
ever  violated  the  proprieties  of  friendship,  time, 
and  occasion  to  raise  a  laugh  or  puncture  a  fraud. 
As  his  friend  of  those  days,  E.  D.  Cowen,  has 
written,  "  as  a  farceur  and  entertainer  no  profes 
sional  could  surpass  him." 

Field  was  tempted  to  go  to  Denver  by  the  offer 
of  the  managing  editorship  of  the  Tribune,  which 
was  owned  and  controlled  by  the  railroad  and  po 
litical  coalition  then  dominant  in  Colorado.  It 
was  run  on  a  scale  of  extravagance  out  of  all  pro 
portion  to  its  legitimate  revenue,  its  newspaper 
functions  being  altogether  subordinate  to  services 
as  a  railroad  ally  and  political  organ.  The  late 
O.  H.  Rothacker,  one  of  the  ablest  and  most  ver- 
143 


144  EUGENE    FIELD 

satile  writers  in  the  country,  was  at  the  head  of  its 
editorial  staff,  and  Fred  J.  V.  Skiff,  now  head  of 
the  Field  Columbian  Museum,  was  its  business 
manager.  These  men,  with  Field,  were  given 
carte  blanche  to  surround  themselves  with  a  staff 
and  news-gathering  equipment  to  make  the  Tribune 
"  hum."  And  they  did  make  it  hum,  so  that  the 
humming  was  heard  far  beyond  the  borders  of  the 
centennial  state. 

In  studying  the  character  of  Eugene  Field  anc} 
his  doings  in  Denver,  it  must  be  borne  in  mind 
that  we  are  considering  a  period  in  the  life  of  that 
city  years  ago,  when  the  conditions  were  very  dif 
ferent  from  those  prevailing  there  now  or  from  those 
to  be  met  with  to-day  in  any  otker  large  city  in 
the  country.  Denver  in  1881  was  very  much 
what  San  Francisco  was  under  the  influence  of  the 
gold  rush  of  the  early  fifties,  only  complicated  with 
the  struggles  of  rival  railway  companies.  All  the 
politics,  railway,  and  mining  interests  of  the  newly 
created  state  centred  in  Denver.  The  city  was 
alive  with  the  throbbing  energy  of  strife  and  specu 
lation  over  mines,  railway  grants,  and  political 
power.  Life  was  rapid,  boisterous,  and  rough. 
Nothing  had  settled  into  the  conventional  grooves 
of  habit.  The  whole  community  was  fearless  in 
its  gayety.  It  had  not  learned  to  affect  the  sobriety 


IN    DENVER,    1881-1883  145 

and  demureness  of  stupidity  lest  its  frivolity  should 
be  likened  to  the  crackling  of  thorns  under  a  pot. 

Into  this  civilization  of  the  mining  camp  and 
smelter,  just  emerging  into  that  of  the  railway, 
political,  and  financial  centre  of  a  vast  and 
wealthy  territory,  came  Eugene  Field  at  the  age 
of  thirty-one,  as  free  from  care,  warm-hearted,  and 
open-handed  as  the  most  reckless  adventurer  in 
Colorado.  Although  a  husband  and  a  father,  de 
voted  as  ever  to  his  family,  he  threw  himself  into 
the  bohemian  life  of  Denver  with  the  abandon  of  a 
youth  of  twenty.  It  is  almost  inconceivable  where 
Field  found  the  time  and  strength  for  the  whirl  of 
work  and  play  in  which  there  was  no  let  up  during 
his  two  years'  stay  in  Denver.  His  duties  as  man 
aging  editor  of  the  Tribune  would  have  taxed  the 
energies  and  resources  of  the  strongest  man,  for  he 
did  not  spare  himself  to  fulfil  the  purpose  of  his 
engagement  —  to  make  the  paper  "  hum."  He 
mapped  out  and  directed  the  work  of  the  staff  with 
a  comprehensive  shrewdness  and  keen  appreciation 
of  what  his  public,  as  well  as  his  employers,  wanted 
that  left  no  room  for  criticism.  He  kept  the  whole 
city  guessing  what  sensation  or  reputation  would 
be  exploded  next  in  the  Tribune. 

But  he  did  not  confine  himself  to  the  duties  of 
directing  the  work  of  others.  He  started  a  column 
VOL.  I.— 10 


146  EUGENE    FIELD 

headed  "  Odds  and  Ends/'  to  which  he  was  the 
principal  and,  by  all  odds,  the  most  frequent  con 
tributor.  He  had  not  been  in  the  city  many 
months  before  he  began  the  occasional  publication 
of  those  skits  which,  under  the  title  of  "  The 
Tribune  Primer,"  were  gathered  into  his  first  un 
pretentious  book  of  forty-eight  pages,  and  which 
in  its  original  form  is  now  one  of  the  most  sought 
after  quarries  of  the  American  bibliomaniac.  Writ 
ing  of  these  sketches  in  1894,  he  said: 

The  little  sketches  appeared  in  the  Denver  Tribune 
in  the  Fall  of  1881  and  winter  of  1882.  The  whole 
number  did  not  exceed  fifty.  I  quit  writing  them 
because  all  the  other  newspapers  in  the  country  began 
imitating  the  project. 

In  fact  the  series  began  October  10th,  1881,  and 
ended  December  19th  of  the  same  year.  Edward 
B.  Morgan,  of  Denver,  in  an  introductory  note 
to  a  few  of  the  sketches  omitted  from  the  original 
"  Tribune  Primer,"  printed  in  the  Cornhill  Book 
let  for  January,  1901,  gives  the  following  version 
of  how  the  skits  began: 

Of  the  origin  of  these  sketches  a  story  is  told — al 
though  the  writer  cannot  vouch  for  it — that  on  the 
Sunday  evening  preceding  their  first  publication  the 
"  printer's  devil "  was  dispatched  post-haste  to  Field's 


IN    DENVER,    1881-1883  147 

home  for  copy  which  his  happy-go-lucky  manner  of 
working  had  not  produced.  We  may  perhaps  picture 
him  engaged  in  what  was  always  nearest  and  dearest 
to  his  heart,  the  amusement  of  his  children,  and  per 
haps  reading  to  them  or  more  likely  composing  for 
them  primer  sketches  which  he  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment  parodied  for  older  readers.  He  has  prob 
ably  expressed  his  own  feelings  in  the  third  one  of 
the  skits  which  he  then  wrote : 

THE  REPORTER  ON  SUNDAY 

Is  this  Sunday  ?  Yes,  it  is  a  Sunday.  How  peace 
ful  and  quiet  it  is.  But  who  is  the  man?  He  does 
not  look  peaceful.  He  is  a  reporter  and  he  is  swear 
ing.  What  makes  him  swear?  Because  he  has  to 
work  on  Sunday  ?  Oh  no !  he  is  swearing  because 
he  has  to  Break  the  Fourth  Commandment.  It  is  a 
sad  thing  to  be  a  Reporter. 

According  to  Mr.  Cowen,  however,  the  inspira 
tion  of  the  primer  compositions  was  a  libel  suit 
brought  against  the  Tribune  by  Governor  Evans. 
In  ridiculing  the  governor  and  his  action  Field  three 
times  used  the  old  primer  method — with  illustra 
tions  after  the  fashion  of  John  Phoenix — and  the 
success  of  these  little  sarcasms  undoubtedly  encour 
aged  him  to  elaborate  the  idea.  Field  also  had  a  ' 
column  of  unsigned  verse  and  storyettes  in  the  Trib 
une  under  the  heading,  "  For  the  Little  Folks." 


148  EUGENE    FIELD 

Mr.  Morgan  discredits  Field's  statement  that  the 
whole  number  of  the  Primers  issued  did  not  exceed 
fifty,  because  of  the  unlikelihood  of  printing  such 
a  small  edition  of  a  book  to  be  sold  for  twenty-five 
cents  and  advertising  it  daily  a  month  in  ad 
vance,  with  a  foot-note,  "  Trade  supplied  at  Special 
Rates."  Which  merely  shows  that  Mr.  Morgan 
applied  to  Field's  acts  the  same  rule  of  thumb  that 
would  be  applicable  to  ninety-nine  out  of  a  hun 
dred  reasonable  publishers.  But  Field  was  a  rule 
unto  himself,  and  he  could  be  counted  on  to  be 
the  one  hundredth  and  unique  individual  where 
the  other  ninety-and-nine  were  orthodox  and  con 
ventional.  The  fact  that  only  seven  or  eight  copies 
of  the  original  Primer  are  known  to  book  collectors 
tends  to  confirm  Field's  statement,  which  receives 
side  light  and  support  from  his  suggestion  to  Fran 
cis  Wilson  that  the  first  edition  of  "  Echoes  from 
the  Sabine  Farm,"  which  Mr.  Wilson  issued  in 
such  sumptuous  form  nearly  ten  years  later,  should 
consist  of  only  fifty  copies,  and  that  each  of  the 
two  should  reserve  one  and  that  they  should  "  burn 
the  other  forty-eight." 

I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  the  same  dis 
position  was  made  of  all  copies  of  "  The  Tribune 
Primer  "  over  the  first  fifty,  which  were  supplied 
to  the  favored  few  at  "  Special  Rates."  This  was 


IN    DENVER,    1881-1883  149 

just  such  a  freak  as  would  have  occurred  to  Field, 
and  in  Denver  there  was  no  restraint  upon  the 
act  following  upon  any  wild  thought  that  flitted 
through  his  topsy-turvy  brain. 

The  jocose  spirit  in  which  Field  at  this  time 
viewed  the  methods,  duties,  and  responsibilities  of 
journalism  may  be  gleaned  from  the  following 
specimens  taken  at  random  from  his  "  Tribune 
Primer  "  sketches: 

THE  EEPORTER 

What  is  that  I  see  ?  That,  my  Child,  is  the  News 
Interviewer  and  he  is  now  interviewing  a  Man.  But 
where  is  the  Man?  I  can  see  no  Man.  The  Man, 
my  Child,  is  in  his  Mind. 

A  RECHERCHE  AFFAIR 

This  is  a  recherche  Affair.  Recherche  Affairs  are 
sometimes  met  with  in  Parlors  and  Ball  Rooms. 
But  more  Generally  in  the  Society  Department  of 
newspapers.  A  Recherche  Affair  is  an  Affair  where 
the  Society  Editor  is  invited  to  the  refreshment  table. 
When  the  Society  Editor  is  told  his  Room  is  Better 
than  his  Company,  the  Affair  is  not  Recherche. 

THE  STEAM  PRESS 

Is  this  not  a  Beautiful  Steam  Press  ?  The  Steam 
is  Lying  Down  on  the  Floor  taking  a  Nap.  He  came 
from  Africa  and  is  Seventy  Years  Old.  The  Press 


150  EUGENE   FIELD 

prints  Papers.  It  can  Print  Nine  Hundred  papers 
an  Hour.  It  takes  One  Hour  and  Forty  Minutes  to 
Print  the  Edition  of  the  Paper.  The  Paper  has  a 
circulation  of  Thirty-seven  thousand.  The  business 
Manager  says  so. 

It  was  indeed  a  happy  departure  from  the  ruder 
fooling  of  the  newspaper  paragrapher  of  that  day 
to  clothe  satire  on  current  events  and  every-day 
affairs  in  the  innocent  simplicity  of  the  nursery. 
But  the  vast  majority  of  these  Primer  paragraphs 
were  by  no  means  as  innocent  as  those  quoted. 
Many  of  them  had  a  sting  more  sharp  than  that 
of  the  wasp  embalmed  in  one  of  them: 

See  the  Wasp.  He  has  pretty  yellow  stripes 
around  his  Body,  and  a  darning  needle  in  his  tail. 
If  you  will  Pat  the  Wasp  upon  the  Tail,  we  will  Give 
you  a  nice  Picture  Book. 

Very  many  of  them  seemed  inspired  by  an  irre 
pressible  desire  to  incite  little  children  to  deeds  of 
mischief  never  dreamed  of  in  Baxter's  Saints' 
Rest.  Here  are  a  precious  pair  of  paragraphs,  each 
calculated  to  bring  the  joy  that  takes  its  meals 
standing  into  any  home  circle  where  youthful  in- 
corrigibles  were  in  need  of  outside  encouragement 
to  their  infant  initiative: 


IN    DENVEE,    1881-1883  151 

THE  NASTY  TOBACCO 

What  is  that  Nasty  looking  object  ?  It  is  a  Chew 
of  Tobacco.  Oh,  how  naughty  it  is  to  use  the  Filthy 
weed.  It  makes  the  teeth  black,  and  spoils  the  Par 
lor  Carpet.  Go  Quick  and  Throw  the  Horrid  Stuff 
Away.  Put  it  in  the  Ice  Cream  Freezer  or  in  the 
Coffee  Pot  where  Nobody  can  see  it.  Little  Girls  you 
should  never  chew  Tobacco. 

THE  MUCILAGE 

The  Bottle  is  full  of  Mucilage.  Take  it  and  Pour 
some  Mucilage  into  Papa's  Slippers.  Then  when 
Papa  comes  Home  it  will  be  a  Question  whether  there 
will  be  more  Stick  in  the  Slippers  than  on  your  Pants. 

But  whoever  wishes  to  learn  of  the  peculiar  side 
of  Child  life  that  appealed  most  strongly  to  Eugene 
Field  when  his  own  earlier  born  children  were  still 
in  the  nursery  age,  should  get  a  copy  of  "  The 
Tribune  Primer  "  and  read,  not  only  the  sketches 
themselves,  but  between  the  lines,  where  he  will 
find  much  of  the  teasing  spirit  that  kept  his  whole 
household  wondering  what  he  would  do  next.  In 
these  sketches  will  be  found  frequent  references  to 
the  Bugaboo,  a  creation  of  his  fancy,  "  "With  a 
big  Voice  like  a  Bear,  and  Claws  as  long  as  a  Knife." 
His  warning  to  the  little  children  then  was,  "If 


152  EUGENE   FIELD 

you  are  Good,  Beware  of  the  Bugaboo."  In  later 
life  he  reserved  the  terror  of  the  Bugaboo  for 
naughty  little  boys  and  girls. 

His  first  poem  to  his  favorite  hobgoblin,  as  it 
appeared  in  the  Denver  Tribune,  was  the  follow 
ing: 

THE  AWFUL  BUGABOO 

There  was  an  awful  Bugaboo 
Whose  Eyes  were  Red  and  Hair  was  Blue; 
His  Teeth  were  Long  and  Sharp  and  White 
And  he  went  prowling  'round  at  Night. 

A  little  Girl  was  Tucked  in  Bed, 
A  pretty  Night  Cap  on  her  Head; 
Her  Mamma  heard  her  Pleading  Say, 
"  Oil,  do  not  Take  the  Lamp  away!  " 

But  Mamma  took  away  the  lamp 
And  oh,  the  Room  was  Dark  and  Damp; 
The  Little  Girl  was  Scared  to  Death — 
She  did  not  Dare  to  Draw  her  Breath. 

And  all  at  once  the  Bugaboo 
Came  Rattling  down  the  Chimney  Flue; 
He  Perched  upon  the  little  Bed 
And  scratched  the  Girl  until  she  bled. 

He  drank  the  Blood  and  Scratched  again — 
The  little  Girl  cried  out  in  vain — 


IN    DENVEK,    1881-1883  153 

He  picked  her  up  and  Off  he  Flew — 
This  Naughty,  Naughty  Bugaboo! 

So,  children  when  in  Bed  to-night, 
Don't  let  them  Take  away  the  Light, 
Or  else  the  Awful  Bugaboo 
May  come  and  Fly  away  with  You. 

It  is  a  far  cry  in  time  and  a  farther  one  in  lit 
erary  worth  from  "  The  Awful  Bugaboo  "  of  1883 
to  "  Seein'  Things  "  of  1894.  The  sex  of  the  vic 
tim  is  different,  and  the  spirit  of  the  incorrigible 
western  tease  gives  way  to  the  spirit  of  Puritanic 
superstition,  but  there  can  be  no  mistaking  the 
persistence  of  the  Bugaboo  germ  in  the  later  verse : 

An'  yet  I  hate  to  go  to  bed, 

For  when  I'm  tucked  up  warm  an'  snug  an'  when  m,y 

prayers  are  said, 
Mother  tells  me  "Happy  Dreams!"  and  takes  away 

the  light, 
An'  leaves  me  lyin'  all  alone  an'  seein'  things  at  night! 

Sometimes  they  are  as  black  as  ink,  an'  other  times 

they're  white — 
But  the  color  ain't  no  difference  when  you're  seein' 

things  at  night. 

In  all  that  Field  wrote,  whether  in  prose  or 
rhyme,  for  the  Denver  Tribune  nothing  contrib- 


154  EUGENE    FIELD 

uted  to  his  literary  reputation  or  gave  promise  of 
the  place  in  American  letters  he  was  to  attain,  save 
one  little  bit  of  fugitive  verse,  which  was  for  years 
to  justify  its  title  of  "  The  "Wanderer."  It  con 
tains  one  of  the  prettiest,  tenderest,  most  vitally 
poetic  ideas  that  ever  occurred  to  Eugene  Field. 
And  yet  he  deliberately  disclaimed  it  in  the  mo 
ment  of  its  conception  and  laid  it,  like  a  little 
foundling,  at  the  door  of  Madame  Modjeska.  The 
expatriation  of  the  Polish  actress,  between  whom 
and  Field  there  existed  a  singularly  warm  and  en 
during  friendship,  formed  the  basis  for  the  allegory 
of  the  shell  on  the  mountain,  and  doubtless  sug 
gested  to  him  the  humor,  if  not  the  sentiment,  of 
attributing  the  poem  to  her  and  writing  it  in  the 
first  person.  The  circumstances  of  its  publication 
justify  its  reproduction  here,  although  I  suppose 
it  is  one  of  the  most  familiar  of  Field's  poems.  I 
copy  it  from  his  manuscript: 


THE  WANDERER 

Upon  a  mountain  height,  far  from  the  sea, 

I  found  a  shell, 

And  to  my  listening  ear  this  lonely  tiling 
Ever  a  song  of  ocean  seem'd  to  sing — 

Ever  a  tale  of  ocean  seem'd  to  tell. 


IN    DENVEE,    1881-1883  155 

How  came  the  shell  upon  the  mountain  height? 

Ah,  who  can  say 

Whether  there  dropped  by  some  too  careless  hand — 
Whether  there  cast  when  oceans  swept  the  land, 

Ere  the  Eternal  had  ordained  the  day? 

Strange,  was  it  not?    Far  from  its  native  deep, 

One  song  it  sang; 

Sang  of  the  awful  mysteries  of  the  tide, 
Sang  of  the  restless  sea,  profound  and  wide — 

Ever  with  echoes  of  the  ocean  rang. 

And  as  the  shell  upon  the  mountain  height 

Sang  of  the  sea, 

So  do  I  ever,  leagues  and  leagues  away — 
So  do  I  ever,  wandering  where  I  may, 

Sing,  0  my  home!  sing,  0  my  home!  of  thee! 

I  have  seen  it  stated  that  Madame  Modjeska  re 
garded  the  liberty  taken  with  her  name  in  this  con 
nection  with  feelings  of  displeasure,  and  Hamlin 
Garland  has  reported  a  conversation  with  Field, 
during  the  summer  of  1893,  when  the  latter,  speak 
ing  of  his  work  in  Denver,  and  of  "  The  Tribune 
Primer "  as  the  most  conspicuous  thing  he  did 
there,  said:  "The  other  thing  which  rose  above 
the  level  of  my  ordinary  work  was  a  bit  of  verse, 
'  The  Wanderer,'  which  I  credited  to  Modjeska, 
and  which  has  given  her  no  little  annoyance."  In 


156  EUGENE    FIELD 

his  note  to  Mrs.  Thompson's  manuscript  copy  of 
"  The  Wanderer/7  Field  says: 

These  verses  appeared  in  the  Denver  Tribune  cred 
ited  to  Helena  Modjeska.  They  were  copied  far  and 
wide  over  Modjeska's  name.  Modjeska  took  the  joke 
in  pretty  good  part.  The  original  publication  was 
June,  1883. 

Madame  Modjeska  not  only  took  the  joke  in 
"  pretty  good  part,"  but  esteemed  its  perpetrator 
all  the  more  highly  for  the  light  in  which  it  placed 
her  before  the  public,  which  she  was  then  delight 
ing  with  her  exquisite  impersonations  of  Rosalind 
and  Mary  Stuart.  For  years  after  its  publication 
Madame  Modjeska,  wherever  she  appeared  through 
out  the  country,  was  reminded  of  this  joke  by  the 
scores  of  letters  sent  to  her  room,  as  soon  as  she 
registered,  requesting  autograph  copies  of  "  The 
Wanderer,"  or  the  honor  of  her  signature  to  a 
clipping  of  it  neatly  pasted  in  the  autograph  hunt 
er's  album.  Nor  were  autograph  hunters  the  only 
ones  imposed  on  by  the  signature  to  "  The  Wan 
derer."  In  August,  1883,  Professor  David  Swing, 
writing  in  the  Weekly  Magazine,  gave  it  as  his 
opinion  that  the  alleged  Modjeska  poem  was  in 
deed  written  by  Modjeska,  and  concluded:  "  The 
conversation  and  tone  of  her  thoughts  as  expressed 


IN    DENVER,    1881-1883  157 

among  friends  betrays  a  mind  that  at  least  loves 
the  poetic,  and  is  quite  liable  to  attempt  a  verse. 
The  child-like  simplicity  of  this  little  song  is  so 
like  Modjeska  that  no  demand  arises  for  any  out 
side  help  in  the  matter."  And  Field,  like  the  trute 
fisherman  he  was,  having  secured  a  fine  rise,  pro 
ceeded  to  remark:  "  It  will,  perhaps,  pain  the 
Professor  to  learn  that  Madame  Modjeska  now  de 
nies  ever  having  seen  the  verses  until  they  appeared 
in  print." 

But  not  until  Field  reclaimed  his  child  and  pub 
lished  "  The  Wanderer  "  as  his  own,  in  "  A  Little 
Book  of  Western  Verse,"  was  the  verse-reading 
public  satisfied  to  give  the  Polish  comedienne  a  long 
rest  from  importunities  concerning  it. 


CHAPTER  X 
ANECDOTES  OP  LIFE   IN  DENVER 

No  story  of  Eugene  Field's  life  would  be  true, 
no  study  of  his  personality  complete,  if  it  ignored 
or  even  glossed  over  "  the  mad  wild  ways  of  his 
youthful  days  "  in  Denver.  He  never  wearied  of 
telling  of  the  constant  succession  of  harum-scarum 
pranks  that  made  the  Tribune  office  the  storm- 
centre  for  all  the  fun-loving  characters  in  Colo 
rado.  Not  that  Field  ever  neglected  his  work  or 
his  domestic  duties  for  play,  but  it  was  a  dull  day 
for  Denver  when  his  pen  or  his  restless  spirit  for 
mischief  did  not  provide  some  fresh  cause  for  local 
amazement  or  merriment.  His  associates  and  abet 
tors  in  all  manner  of  frolics,  where  he  was  master 
of  the  revels,  were  kindred  spirits  among  the  rail 
way  managers,  agents,  politicians,  mining  specu 
lators,  lawyers,  and  doctors  of  the  town.  Into  this 
company  a  fresh  ingredient  would  be  introduced 
every  week  from  the  theatrical  troupes  which  made 
Denver  the  western  limit  of  their  circuits  or  a  con 
venient  break  in  the  long  overland  jump. 

Field's  office  was  a  fitting  retreat  for  the  genius 
158 


ANECDOTES    OF    LIFE    IN    DENVER     159 

of  disorder.  It  had  none  of  the  conveniences  that 
are  supposed  to  be  necessary  in  the  rooms  of 
modern  managing  editors.  It  was  open  and  ac 
cessible  to  the  public  without  the  intermediary  of 
an  office-boy  or  printer's  devil.  Field  had  his  own 
way  of  making  visitors  welcome,  whether  they 
came  in  friendly  guise  or  on  hostile  measures  bent. 
Over  his  desk  hung  the  inhospitable  sign,  "  This 
is  my  busy  day,"  which  he  is  said  to  have  invented, 
and  on  the  neighboring  wall  the  motto,  "  God  bless 
our  proof-reader,  He  can't  call  for  him  too  soon." 
But  his  cruelest  device,  "  fatal,"  as  his  friend  E. 
D.  Cowen  writes,  "  to  the  vengeance  of  every  vis 
itor  who  came  with  a  threat  of  libel  suit,  and  tem 
porarily  subversive  of  the  good  feeling  of  those 
friends  he  lured  into  its  treacherous  embrace,  was 
a  bottomless  black-walnut  chair."  Its  yawning  seat 
was  always  concealed  by  a  few  exchanges  carelessly 
thrown  there — the  floor  being  also  liberally  strewn 
with  them.  As  it  was  the  only  chair  in  the  room 
except  the  one  Field  occupied  himself,  his  caller, 
though  never  asked  to  do  so,  would  be  sure  to  see 
in  Field's  suave  smile  an  invitation  to  drop  into 
the  trap  and  thence  ingloriously  to  the  floor. 
Through  this  famous  chair,  on  his  first  visit  to  the 
Tribune  office,  "Bill"  Nye  dropped  into  a  life 
long  friendship  with  Eugene  Field.  When  the 


160  EUGENE   FIELD 

victim  happened  to  be  an  angry  sufferer  from  a 
too  personal  reference  to  his  affairs  in  the  paper, 
Field  would  make  the  most  profuse  apologies  for 
the  scant  furnishings  of  the  office,  which  he 
shrewdly  ascribed  to  the  poverty  of  the  publishing 
company,  and  tender  his  own  chair  as  some  small 
compensation  for  the  mishap. 

I  have  spoken  of  Edgar  W. — more  familiarly 
known  as  "  Bill  " — Nye's  unceremonious  introduc 
tion  to  Field's  friendship.  This  followed  upon  what 
was  virtually  the  discovery  of  Nye  by  Field.  The 
former  was  what  old-time  printers  described  as 
"  plugging  along  "  without  recognition  on  the  Lar- 
amie  Boomerang.  His  peculiar  humor  caught  the 
attention  of  Field,  who,  with  the  intuition  of  a 
born  journalist,  wrote  and  got  Nye  to  contribute  a 
weekly  letter  to  the  Tribune.  At  first  Nye  was 
paid  the  princely  stipend  of  $5  a  week  for  these 
letters.  This  was  raised  to  $10,  and  when  Field 
informed  Nye  that  he  was  to  receive  $15  per  let 
ter,  the  latter  promptly  packed  his  grip  and  took 
the  first  train  for  Denver,  to  see  what  sort  of  a 
newspaper  Croesus  presided  over  the  order-blank 
of  the  Tribune.  When  he  appeared  before  Field 
he  was  whiskered  like  a  western  farmer  and  his 
head  had  not  pushed  its  way  through  a  thick  growth 
of  hair.  He  was  altogether  a  different  looking  per- 


ANECDOTES    OF    LIEE    IN    DENVER     161 

sonage  from  the  bald-headed,  clean-shaven  humor 
ist  with  whose  features  the  world  was  destined  to 
become  so  well  acquainted. 

After  the  incident  of  the  chair  nothing  would 
do  Field  but  a  dinner  at  the  St.  James  Hotel,  given 
in  honor  of  Bill  Nye.  The  affair  started  after  the 
Tribune  had  gone  to  press  and  lasted  all  night.  At 
five  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  company  escorted 
their  guest  to  his  room  and  departed,  with  elaborate 
professions  of  good-will.  They  waited  in  the  hotel 
office  long  enough  for  Nye  to  get  to  bed,  and  then 
sent  up  cards,  requesting  his  presence  down-stairs 
on  immediate  business.  But  Nye  was  equal  to  his 
tormentors,  and  the  bell-boy  returned,  bearing  a 
shot-gun,  with  the  message  that  it  would  speak  for 
him.  "When  Nye  first  visited  Field  in  Chicago, 
his  presence  in  town  was  heralded  with  the  follow 
ing  paragraph: 

The  latest  news  from  Bill  Nye  is  to  the  effect  that 
he  has  discovered  a  coal  mine  on  his  little  farm  near 
Hudson,  Wis.  Ten  days  ago  he  was  spading  over  his 
garden — an  exercise  recommended  by  his  physician 
— and  he  struck  a  very  rich  vein  of  what  is  called 
rock  coal.  Nye  paid  $2,000  for  this  farm,  and  since 
the  development  of  this  coal  deposit  on  the  premises 
he  has  been  offered  $10,000  for  five  acres.  He  be 
lieves  that  he  has  a  great  fortune  within  his  grasp. 
VOL.  I.— 11 


162  EUGENE    FIELD 

As  illustrative  of  how  impossible  it  was  for  Field 
to  keep  money,  it  is  related  that  on  one  occasion 
he  coaxed  F.  J.  V.  Skiff,  then  business  manager 
of  the  Tribune,  to  advance  "  just  another  "  $10 
to  meet  some  urgent  domestic  demands.  Scarcely 
had  Mr.  Skiff  time  to  place  the  order  in  the  cash 
drawer,  ere  Field  stood  before  him  once  more, 
pleading  in  forma  pauperis  for  "  another  X."  He 
was  asked  what  had  become  of  the  ten  he  had  just 
received. 

"  Just  my  luck,  Fred,"  Field  replied.  "  As  I 
was  leaving  the  office  whom  should  I  meet  but  one 
of  my  old  printer  boys,  dead  broke.  The  X  was 
all  I  had,  and  he  told  me  he  had  to  have  it,  and 
he  had  to."  It  is  needless  to  say  that  Field  got 
the  second  advance  and  succeeded  in  dodging  all 
impecunious  "  old  boys  "  on  the  way  home. 

I  have  said  that  Denver  at  that  time  was  the 
centre  of  all  the  railway  interests  of  Colorado  and 
the  far  West.  Being  also  the  capital,  it  was  the 
place  where  legislators  and  railway  agents  wres 
tled  with  problems  of  regulating  tariffs  and  grant 
ing  privileges  to  what  may  be  called  their  mutual 
benefit.  It  was  from  his  experience  in  Denver  that 
Field  learned  that  two-thirds  of  the  business  of  a 
western  legislature  consisted  in  causing  legislative 
hold-ups,  of  which  the  transportation  companies 


ANECDOTES    OF    LIFE    IN    DENVER     163 

were  the  victims,  and  the  most  vociferously  im 
peccable  statesmen  the  chief  beneficiaries.  The 
secret  service  funds  of  the  railway  companies  doing 
business  in  Colorado  paid  out  a  hundred  dollars 
for  protection  from  notorious  sandbagging  bills  and 
resolutions  to  every  dollar  they  spent  for  special 
favors  in  grants  and  franchises. 

This  by  way  of  preface  to  a  story  in  which  Eu 
gene  Field  and  a  railway  official,  who,  as  I  write, 
holds  a  high  position  in  the  transportation  world, 
figure.  This  official  was  at  that  time  the  superin 
tendent  of  the  Southwestern  Division  of  the  Pull 
man  system,  with  head-quarters  at  St.  Louis.  In 
those  days  every  session  of  the  Colorado  legislature 
saw  its  anti-Pullman  rate  reduction  bill,  which 
Wickersham,  as  I  shall  call  him,  because  that  is 
not  his  name,  was  commissioned  to  checkmate, 
strangle,  or  make  away  with  in  committee  by  the 
aid  of  annual  passes,  champagne,  and  the  mysteri 
ous  potency  of  the  national  bank-note.  As  was 
remarked  by  E.  D.  Cowen,  to  whose  notes  I  am 
indebted  for  refreshing  my  memory  of  Field's 
tales,  Wickersham  never  failed  in  generalship,  prin 
cipally  because  he  was  bold  in  his  methods  and 
picturesquely  lavish  with  his  munitions  of  war. 
The  Pullman  Company  did  not  then  enjoy  the 
royalty  and  defensive  alliance  which  now  protects 


164  EUGENE    FIELD 

it  against  rate  legislation  throughout  the  West,  and 
so  Wickersham  was  kept  continually  on  the  go, 
making  alliances  and  friendships  among  legislators 
and  journalists  against  the  days  of  reckoning. 

Field,  as  the  managing  editor  of  the  Tribune, 
was  a  special  favorite  with  Wickersham,  as  he  was 
of  every  professional  and  commercial  visitor  hav 
ing  an  axe  to  grind  at  the  capital  of  the  state. 
Pullman's  representative  had  the  wit  to  appreciate 
Field,  both  for  his  personal  qualities  and  the  as 
sistance  he  could  render  through  the  columns  of 
the  newspaper.  Field  reciprocated  the  personal 
friendship,  but,  so  far  as  the  Tribune  was  con 
cerned,  took  a  grim  satisfaction  in  giving  Wick 
ersham  to  understand  that  though  he  could  use 
its  freedom  he  could  not  abuse  it  or  count  upon  its 
aid  beyond  what  was  strictly  legitimate.  Field's 
stereotyped  introduction  of  Wickersham — one  cal 
culated  to  put  him  on  a  pleasant  business  footing 
with  every  practical  politician,  was  "  He's  a  good 
fellow  and  a  thoroughbred."  So  his  coming  was 
invariably  celebrated  by  a  general  round-up  of  all 
the  good  fellows  in  Denver,  and  his  departure  left 
the  aching  heads  and  parched  recollections  that 
from  the  days  of  Noah  have  distinguished  the 
morning  after. 

After  one   of  Wickersham's  calls,  Field  deter- 


ANECDOTES    OF   LIFE    IN    DENVER     165 

mined  that  the  sobriety  and  severe  morality  of 
Denver  were  being  scandalized  by  these  periodical 
visitations,  and  he  issued  orders  to  the  Tribune 
staff  that  when  next  the  "  good  fellow  and  thor 
oughbred  "  appeared  on  the  scene  he  should  be 
given  a  wide  berth,  or,  as  Field  put  it,  should  be 
left  to  "  play  a  lone  hand  in  his  game."  So  when 
Wickersham  next  swung  around  the  legislative  cir 
cle  to  Denver,  not  a  man  about  the  editorial  rooms 
would  go  out  with  him,  listen  to  his  stories,  accept 
a  cigar  at  his  hands,  or  associate  with  him  in  any 
of  the  ways  that  had  been  their  cheerful  wont. 
The  coldness  and  loneliness  of  the  situation  excited 
Wickersham's  thirst  for  revenge  and  also  for  what 
is  known  as  the  wine  of  Kentucky.  Having  suc 
ceeded  in  getting  up  a  full  head  of  steam,  he 
started  out  for  an  explanation  or  a  counter  demon 
stration.  Arriving  at  the  Tribune  office,  when  the 
desks  were  vacated  at  the  evening  dinner-hour,  he 
interpreted  it  as  a  further  affront  and  challenge, 
which  he  proceeded  to  answer  by  destroying  every 
last  scrap  of  copy  in  sight  for  the  morrow's  paper. 
He  then  converted  himself  into  a  small  cyclone, 
and  went  through  every  desk,  strewed  their  litter 
on  the  floor,  broke  all  the  pens  and  pencils,  and, 
in  the  language  of  an  eye-witness,  "  ended  by  ton 
ing  the  picture  of  editorial  desolation  with  the 


166  EUGENE   FIELD 

violet  contents  of  all  the  ink  bottles  he  could 
find." 

Then  he  retired  in  hilarious  satisfaction  from  the 
scene  of  devastation  he  had  made.  Consternation 
reigned  in  that  office  until  Field  returned,  when 
he  quickly  dispelled  the  gloom  with  a  promise  of 
revenge,  and  set  the  staff  at  work  to  patch  up  the 
ruin  the  envious  Wickersham  had  made.  But  they 
were  not  permitted  to  do  this  in  peace,  for  their 
enemy,  returning  in  the  dark  of  night,  bombarded 
the  windows  of  the  editorial  rooms  with  the  staves 
of  old  ash-barrels  he  had  found  conveniently  by. 

While  Wickersham  was  engaged  in  this  second 
assault,  with  windows  smashing  to  right  of  them 
and  to  left  of  them,  with  glass  falling  all  around 
them,  and  the  staves  of  old  ash-barrels  playing  a 
devil's  tattoo  about  them,  the  devoted  band  of 
editors,  reporters,  and  copy-readers  worked  nobly 
on.  They  had  confidence  in  their  leader  that  their 
hour  would  come.  Their  first  duty  was  to  get 
out  the  paper.  After  that  they  looked  for  the 
deluge. 

When  Wickersham  had  expended  his  last  stave 
and  fiercest  epithet  on  the  shattered  windows  he 
retired  in  bad  order  to  his  apartments  at  the  St. 
James  Hotel. 

Now  began  Field's  revenge,  planned  with  due 


ANECDOTES    OF    LIFE    IN   DENVER     167 

deliberation  and  executed  with  malicious  thorough 
ness.  He  first  sent  for  "  'Possum  Jim,"  an  aged 
and  very  serious  colored  man,  who  worshipped 
"  Mistah  Fiel'  "  because  of  the  sympathy  Eugene 
never  withheld  from  the  dark-skinned  children  of 
the  race.  "  'Possum  Jim  "  spent  most  of  his  ex 
istence  on  the  same  street  corner,  waiting  for  a 
job,  which  invariably  had  to  come  to  him.  His 
outfit  consisted  of  an  express  wagon  strung  to 
gether  with  telegraph  wire,  and  a  nondescript  four- 
footed  creature  that  once  bore  the  similitude  of  a 
horse.  Whenever  Field  had  an  odd  job  to  be  done 
about  his  household  he  would  go  out  of  his  way 
to  let  "  old  'Possum  Jim  "  earn  the  quarter — partly 
to  do  an  act  of  kindness  to  "  Jim,"  but  chiefly  to 
tease  Mrs.  Field  by  the  appearance  of  the  broken- 
down  equipage  lingering  in  front  of  their  dwelling. 
Just  before  the  Tribune  went  to  press,  a  sergeant 
of  police  called  on  Field  in  response  to  a  summons 
by  telephone.  After  a  whispered  conference  he 
left,  with  a  broad  smile  struggling  under  his  curl 
ing  mustache.  In  company  with  a  number  of  his 
staff  Field  next  made  the  round  of  the  all-night 
haunts  and  gathered  to  his  aid  as  fine  a  collection 
of  bohemian  "  thoroughbreds  "  as  ever  made  the 
revels  of  Mardi  Gras  look  like  a  Sunday-school 
convention.  He  installed  them  at  the  resort  of  a 


1G8  EUGENE    FIELD 

Kentucky  gentleman  named  Jones,  opposite  the  St. 
James.  As  one  who  was  there  reports,  "  The  am 
ber  milk  of  the  Blue-grass  cow  flowed  in  plenty." 
Bidding  his  associates  await  his  return,  Field, 
armed  with  a  single  bottle,  crossed  the  street  to  the 
hotel  in  search  of  the  enemy. 

For  half  an  hour  they  waited,  in  growing  fear 
that  Wickersham  had  retired  for  the  night,  with 
orders  the  night  clerk  dared  not  disobey,  that  he 
was  not  to  be  disturbed,  even  if  the  hotel  was  on 
fire.  Just  as  expectation  had  grown  heavy-eyed, 
Field  appeared  crossing  the  street  with  Wicker- 
sham  on  his  arm,  very  happy,  more  of  a  good  fellow 
than  ever  and  more  than  ever  ready  for  red-eyed 
anarchy  of  any  sort. 

"  After  a  swift  hour  "  —I  quote  from  one  who 
was  there  and  whose  account  tallies  with  Field's 
own — "  and  as  the  morning  opened  out  Field  in 
sisted  on  breaking  for  sunlight  and  fresh  air. 
Wickersham  was  always  a  leader,  even  in  the  mat 
ter  of  making  a  noise.  He  sang;  everyone  else 
applauded.  He  shrieked  and  shouted;  all  ap 
proved.  Windows  went  up  across  the  way  in  the 
hotel,  and  night-capped  heads  protruded  to  investi 
gate.  The  frantic  din  of  the  electric-bells  could 
be  heard.  The  clerk  appeared  to  protest."  What 
attention  might  have  been  paid  to  his  protest  will 


ANECDOTES    OF    LIFE    IN    DENVEE     169 

never  be  known,  for  just  then  "  Tossum  Jim's  " 
gothic  steed  and  rattletrap  cart  rounded  the  cor 
ner. 

"  I  say,  old  man,"  shouted  Field,  "  we  want 
your  rig  for  an  hour;  what's  it  worth?  " 

Jim  played  his  part  slyly,  and  the  bargain  was 
finally  struck  for  $2.50,  the  owner  to  present  no 
claim  for  possible  damages.  Wickersham  was  so 
delighted  with  the  shrewdness  of  the  deal  that  he 
insisted  on  paying  the  bill.  The  horse,  which  could 
scarcely  stand  on  his  four  corners,  was  quickly  un 
harnessed  and  hitched  to  a  telegraph  pole,  and 
before  he  realized  what  the  madcaps  were  about, 
Wickersham  was  himself  harnessed  into  the  shafts. 
The  novelty  of  his  position  suited  his  mood.  He 
pranced  and  snorted,  and  pawed  the  ground  and 
whinnied,  and  played  horse  in  fine  fettle  until 
the  word  go.  Field,  with  a  companion  beside  him, 
held  the  reins  and  cracked  the  whip.  The  others 
helped  the  thoroughbred  in  harness  the  best  they 
could  by  pushing. 

In  this  manner,  and  all  yelling  like  Comanche 
Indians,  twice  they  made  the  circuit  of  the  block. 
All  the  guests  in  front  of  the  big  hotel  were  lean 
ing  out  of  the  windows,  when  the  police  sergeant 
popped  in  sight  with  a  squad  of  four  men.  Field, 
who  had  been  duly  apprised  of  their  approach, 


170  EUGENE    FIELD 

gave  the  signal,  and  the  crowd,  making  good  their 
retreat  to  Jones's,  abandoned  AVickersham  to  his 
fate.  He  was  quickly,  but  roughly,  disentangled 
from  the  intricacies  of  "  'Possum  Jim's  "  rope- 
yarn  harness.  The  more  he  protested  and  expostu 
lated,  the  more  inexorable  became  the  five  big 
custodians  of  the  outraged  peace,  until  the  last  word 
of  remonstrance  and  explanation  died  upon  his 
well-nigh  breathless  lips.  Then  he  tried  cajoling 
and  "  connudling  "  and  those  silent,  persuasive  arts 
so  often  efficacious  in  legislative  lobbies;  but  there 
were  too  many  witnesses  to  his  crime,  and  bribes 
were  not  in  order. 

When  at  last  Wickersham,  from  sheer  despair 
and  physical  exhaustion,  sank  limp  in  the  arms  of 
his  captors,  the  sergeant,  on  the  pretext  of  seeking 
the  aiders  and  abettors  in  the  riot,  half  carried,  half 
led  the  prisoner  into  Jones's  resort. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  the  police  squad  made 
its  exit  by  the  back  door,  and  less  than  an  hour 
afterward  Wickersham's  special  was  bearing  him 
southward  toward  Texas. 

But  Field's  revenge  was  not  fully  sated  yet.  He 
caused  a  $2  Pullman  rate-bill,  making  a  sixty  per 
cent,  reduction,  to  be  prepared  in  the  Tribune 
office,  and  secured  its  introduction  in  the  legislat 
ure  by  the  chairman  of  the  House  committee  on 


ANECDOTES    OF    LIFE    IN    DENVER     171 

railways.  The  news  was  immediately  flashed  East, 
and  Wickersham  came  posting  back  to  Denver  with 
the  worst  case  of  monopoly  fright  he  had  ever  ex 
perienced.  The  day  after  his  arrival  the  Tribune 
had  something  to  say  in  every  department  of  his 
nefarious  mission,  and  every  reference  to  him  bris 
tled  with  biting  irony  and  downright  accusation. 
Never  was  a  "  good  fellow  and  a  thoroughbred  " 
so  mercilessly  scarified. 

For  the  remaining  six  weeks  of  the  session  Wick 
ersham  did  not  leave  Denver,  nor  did  he  dare 
look  at  the  Tribune  until  after  breakfast.  Every 
member  of  the  legislature  received  a  Pullman 
annual.  Champagne  flowed,  not  by  the  bottle,  but 
by  the  dray-load.  Wickersham  begged  for  quarter, 
but  his  appeals  fell  like  music  on  ears  that  heard 
but  heeded  not.  Nor  did  he  find  out  that  the  whole 
affair  was  a  put-up  job  until  the  bill  was  finally 
lost  in  the  Senate  committee. 

One  of  the  familiar  stories  of  Field's  rollicking 
life  in  Denver  was  at  the  expense  of  Oscar  Wilde, 
then  on  his  widely  advertised  visit  to  America.  As 
the  reader  may  remember,  this  was  when  the  aes 
thetic  craze  and  the  burlesques  inseparable  from  it 
were  at  their  height.  Anticipating  Wilde's  appear 
ance  in  Denver  by  one  day,  and  making  shrewdly 
worded  announcements  through  the  Tribune  in 


172  EUGENE   FIELD 

keeping  with  his  project,  Field  secured  the  finest 
landau  in  town  and  was  driven  through  the  streets 
in  a  caricature  verisimilitude  of  the  poet  of  the 
sunflower  and  the  flowing  hair. 

The  impersonation  of  Wilde  a  la  Bunthorne  in 
Gilbert  and  Sullivan's  opera,  "  Patience,"  was  well 
calculated  to  deceive  all  who  were  not  in  the  secret. 
Field's  talent  as  a  farceur  and  a  mimic  enabled  him 
to  assume  and  carry  out  the  expression  of  bored 
listlessness  which  was  the  popular  idea  of  the  leader 
of  aesthetes.  Nobody  in  the  curious,  whooping, 
yelling  crowd  assembled  along  the  well-advertised 
route  suspected  the  delusion,  and  after  an  hour's 
parade  Field  succeeded  in  making  his  exit  from 
public  gaze  without  betraying  his  identity. 

"When  Wilde  turned  up  the  next  day  he  was  not 
a  little  mystified  to  learn  that  he  had  created  a 
sensation  driving  around  Denver  in  the  raiments  of 
Bunthorne,  while  in  reality  travelling  over  the 
prairie  in  a  palace-car.  It  was  Field  himself  who 
relieved  his  curiosity  with  a  highly  amusing  nar 
rative  of  the  experience  of  the  joker  lounging  in 
the  seat  of  honor  in  the  landau. 

Wilde,  it  is  related,  saw  nothing  funny  in  the 
affair,  nor  was  he  provoked  at  it.  His  only  com 
ment  was,  "  What  a  splendid  advertisement  for  my 
lecture." 


ANECDOTES    OF   LIFE    IN    DENVER     173 

It  was  while  in  Denver  that  Field  had  numer 
ous  and  flattering  offers  to  leave  journalism  for  the 
stage,  and  more  than  once  he  was  sorely  tempted 
to  make  the  experiment.  In  the  natural  qualifica 
tions  for  the  theatrical  profession  he  was  most 
richly  endowed.  In  the  arts  of  mimicry  he  had  no 
superior.  He  had  the  adaptable  face  of  a  comedian, 
was  a  matchless  raconteur,  and  a  fine  vocalist.  At 
a  banquet  or  in  a  parlor  he  was  an  entertainer  of 
truly  fascinating  parts.  During  his  life  in  St.  Louis 
and  Kansas  City  his  inclination  had  led  him  to  seek 
the  society  of  the  green-room,  and  in  Denver  his 
position  enlarged  the  circle  of  his  acquaintance  with 
the  theatrical  profession,  until  it  embraced  almost 
every  prominent  actor  and  actress  in  America,  and 
was  subsequently  extended  to  include  the  more 
celebrated  artists  of  England.  Among  his  favorites 
was  Madame  Bernhardt,  whose  several  visits  to  the 
United  States  afforded  him  an  opportunity  for  some 
of  the  most  entertaining  sketches  that  ever  de 
lighted  his  Chicago  readers.  None  of  these  con 
tained  more  pith  in  little  than  that  brief  paragraph 
with  which  he  opened  his  column  one  day,  to  the 
effect  that  "  An  empty  cab  drove  up  to  the  stage- 
door  of  the  Columbia  Theatre  last  night,  from 
which  Madame  Bernhardt  alighted." 

Among  the  celebrities  who  visited  Denver  while 


174  EUGENE    FIELD 

Field  was  in  what  he  would  have  called  his  peri 
helion  was  Miss  Kate  Field,  with  whose  name  he 
took  all  the  liberties  of  a  brother,  although  there 
was  no  blood  relationship  between  them  thicker 
than  the  leaves  of  a  genealogical  compendium.  He 
took  especial  pains  to  circulate  the  report  through 
all  the  West  that  Miss  Field  had  brought  a  sitz- 
bath  with  her  to  alleviate  the  dust  and  hardships 
of  travel  in  the  "  Woolly  West,"  where,  as  he  rep 
resented,  she  thought  running  water  was  a  luxury 
and  stationary  bath-tubs  were  unknown.  But  he 
atoned  for  this  by  one  of  the  daintiest  pleasantries 
that  ever  occurred  to  his  playful  mind.  When  Miss 
Field  was  preparing  for  her  lecture  tour  in  Mor 
mon  land  she  started  an  inquisitive  correspondence 
with  her  namesake,  whose  Tribune  Primer  was  then 
spreading  his  fame  through  the  exchanges.  The 
two  soon  discovered  that  they  were  cousins,  no  mat 
ter  how  many  times  removed,  but  near  enough  to 
inspire  Field  to  entrust  a  letter  to  Uncle  Sam's 
mail  addressed  thus: 

A  maiden  fair  of  untold  age 
Seeks  to  adorn  our  Western  stage; 
How  foolish  of  her,  yet  how  nice 
To  write  me,  asking  my  advice! 
New  York's  the  city  where  you'll  find 
This  prodigy  of  female  kind; 


ANECDOTES    OF    LIFE    IN    DENVER     175 

Hotel  Victoria's  the  place 
Where  you'll  see  her  smiling  face. 
I  pray  thee,  postman,  bear  away 
This  missive  to  her,  sans  delay. 
These  lines  enclosed  are  writ  by  me — 
A  Field  am  I,  a  Field  is  she. 
Two  very  fertile  fields  I  ween, 
In  constant  bloom,  yet  never  green. 
She  is  my  cousin;  happy  fate 
That  gave  me  such  a  Cousin  Kate. 

From  Denver  to  New  York  this  pretty  conceit 
carried  the  epistle  just  as  safely  and  directly  as  if 
it  had  borne  the  most  prosaic  superscription  the 
postal  authorities  could  exact,  and  I  venture  to 
say  that  it  was  handled  with  a  smiling  solicitude 
never  bestowed  on  the  humdrum  epistles  that  travel 
neither  faster  nor  surer  for  being  marked  "  im 
portant  and  immediate."  This  was  before  Field 
had  formed  the  habit  of  illuminating  everything 
he  wrote  with  colored  inks,  or  the  missive  to  his 
Cousin  Kate  would  have  expressed  his  variegated 
fancies  in  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,  especially 
red. 

In  a  short  sketch,  entitled  "  Eugene  Field  in 
Denver,"  Wolfe  Londoner  speaks  of  his  friend  as 
a  "  bright  ray  of  laughing  sunshine  across  this 
shadowy  vale,  a  mine  of  sentiment  and  charity,  an 


176  EUGENE    FIELD 

avalanche  of  fun  and  happiness,"  but  one  who 
"  never  in  all  the  run  of  his  merry,  joyous  career 
was  known  to  wake  up  with  a  cent."  Why? 

Here  is  the  explanation  given  by  Mr.  Londoner, 
who  was  familiar  with  every  phase  of  Eugene 
Field's  life  in  Denver: 

"  The  course  of  one  short  day  was  ever  long 
enough  to  drain  his  open  purse,  and  his  boon  com 
panions  were  as  welcome  to  its  contents,  while  it 
could  stand  the  strain,  as  its  careless,  happy  owner. 
The  bright  side  of  life  attracted  his  laughing 
fancy,  and  with  stern  and  unalterable  determi 
nation  he  studiously  avoided  all  seriousness  and 
shadow.  There  was  no  room  in  his  happy  compo 
sition  for  aught  of  sorrow  or  sadness,  and  a  quick 
and  merry  wit  always  extricated  him  from  every 
embarrassing  position  or  perplexing  dilemma." 

Mr.  Londoner  rightly  says  that  an  inert  Eugene 
Field  was  an  impossibility,  and  at  that  time  he 
was  only  supremely  happy  when  busily  engaged  in 
playing  some  practical  joke  on  his  ever-suspecting 
but  never  sufficiently  wary  friends.  Of  course  Mr. 
Londoner  himself  was  victimized,  and  more  than 
once.  During  one  campaign,  as  chairman  of  the 
Republican  County  Central  Committee,  Mr.  Lon 
doner  was  delegated  to  work  up  enthusiasm  among 
the  colored  voters  of  Denver,  and  in  an  unguarded 


ANECDOTES    OF    LIFE    IN    DENVER     177 

moment  he  took  Field  into  his  confidence  and 
boasted  of  his  flattering  progress.  The  next  morn 
ing  the  following  advertisement,  displayed  with  all 
the  prominence  of  glaring  scare-heads,  appeared: 

WANTED ! ! 

EVERY  COLORED  MAN  IN  THE  CITY. 

To  call  at  Wolfe  Londoner's 

Store. 

A  Car  load  of  Georgia 

Watermelons 

Just  received 

For  a  special  distribution 

Among  his 
Colored  Friends. 

Call  Early  and  get  Your  Melon  !  !  ! 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  when  Mr.  Londoner's 
store  opened  in  the  morning  an  ever-increasing 
cloud  of  dusky  humanity,  with  teeth  that  glistened 
with  the  juice  of  anticipation,  gathered  about  the 
entrance.  Business  in  the  store  was  at  a  standstill 
and  travel  on  the  street  was  blocked.  No  explana 
tion  could  appease  the  rising  anger  of  that  dark 
multitude.  It  was  melons,  or  a  riot.  Melons,  or 
that  unheard-of  thing — a  colored  landslide  to  the 
democracy.  Mr.  Londoner  was  at  his  wits'  ends. 
VOL.  I.-12 


178  EUGENE    FIELD 

There  were  no  melons  in  the  market,  and  none  ex 
pected.  Just  as  Londoner  was  preparing  to  aban 
don  his  store  to  the  wrath  of  the  justly  incensed 
melon-maniacs,  a  car-load  of  magnificent  melons 
dropped  into  one  of  the  freight  sidings,  and  Lon 
doner  and  the  Kepublican  party  were  saved.  No 
body  ever  knew  how  or  whence  that  pink-hearted 
manna  came.  The  price  was  exorbitant,  but  that 
did  not  matter.  Londoner  paid  it  with  the  air  of 
a  man  who  had  ordered  melons  and  was  indignant 
that  the  railway  company  had  disappointed  him  in 
not  delivering  them  the  day  before.  There  was 
not  a  crack  in  the  solid  black  Republican  column 
on  election  day. 

But  Field  was  not  through  with  Mr.  Londoner 
yet.  The  colored  brethren  had  to  hold  their  rati 
fication  meeting  to  endorse  the  Republican  nomi 
nations,  and  more  especially  to  render  thanks  for 
the  creation  of  watermelons,  and  to  the  man  who 
paid  for  them,  out  of  season.  Of  course  Mr.  Lon 
doner  was  invited  to  attend,  and  when  it  came  his 
turn  to  address  the  meeting  the  chairman,  a  col 
ored  deacon  of  the  church  where  "  'Possum  Jim  " 
worshipped,  by  the  name  of  Williams,  introduced 
him  as  follows: 

"  I  now  take  great  pleasure  in  introducing  to 
you  our  friend  and  brother,  the  Honorable  Mistah 


ANECDOTES    OF   LIFE    IN    DENVER     179 

Wolfe  Londoner,  who  has  always  been  our  true 
friend  and  brother,  who  always  advises  us  to  do 
the  right  thing,  and  stands  ready,  at  all  times,  to 
help  us  in  the  good  fight.  Although  he  has  a  white 
skin,  his  heart  is  as  black  as  any  of  ours.  Brothers, 
the  Honorable  Wolfe  Londoner." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  authorship  of  this 
felicitous  introduction. 

Field  was  never  tired  of  repeating  another  story 
at  the  expense  of  Mr.  Londoner,  in  connection  with 
the  visit  of  Charles  A.  Dana  to  Denver.  The  ar 
rival  of  "  Mr.  Dana  of  the  New  York  Sun  "  was 
made  the  occasion  for  one  of  those  receptions  by 
the  Press  Club  which  made  up  in  heartiness  what 
they  lacked  in  conventional  ceremony.  Mr.  Lon 
doner  was  the  president  of  the  club,  and  it  not  only 
fell  to  his  lot  to  deliver  the  address  of  welcome  to 
guests  of  the  club,  but  to  look  after  their  com 
fort  and  welfare  while  they  remained  in  the  city, 
and  often  to  provide  them  with  the  wherewithal 
to  leave  it.  On  Mr.  Dana's  presentation  he  was 
called  on  for  some  remarks,  to  which  Mr.  Londoner 
listened  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  had  heard  the 
same  tale  from  lips  less  entitled  to  deliver  a  mes 
sage  of  counsel  and  warning  to  a  group  of  news 
paper  writers.  When  his  guest  had  finished  his 
remarks,  Mr.  Londoner,  according  to  Field's  story, 


180  EUGENE   FIELD 

walked  over  to  Mr.  Dana  and  asked  him  how  much 
he  wanted. 

Mr.  Dana  looked  at  him  with  a  puzzled  air,  and 
asked:  "  How  much  what?  What  do  you  mean?  " 

"  Why,  money,"  Mr.  Londoner  is  said  to  have 
replied.  "  Every  newspaper  man  who  ever  came 
to  this  club  was  introduced  the  same  as  you  were, 
made  a  speech  the  same  as  you  did,  and  then  came 
to  me  to  borrow  money  to  get  out  of  town  with. 
Now,  how  much  do  you  want? " 

According  to  Field,  he  never  saw  a  man  so  great 
ly  relieved  as  Mr.  Londoner  was  when  Mr.  Dana  as 
sured  him  that  his  hotel  bill  was  paid  and  he  had 
enough  money  sewed  into  his  waistcoat  to  carry 
him  back  to  New  York,  where  he  had  a  job  waiting 
for  him. 

On  one  occasion  Field  accompanied  the  Denver 
Press  Club  on  a  pleasure  trip  to  Manitou,  a  sum 
mer  resort  that  nestles  in  a  canon  at  the  base  of 
Mount  Rosa.  Before  the  party  was  comfortably 
settled  in  the  hotel,  Field  was  approached  by  a  poor 
woman  who  had  lost  her  husband,  and  who  poured 
into  his  ear  a  sad  tale  of  indigence  and  sorrow.  He 
became  immediately  interested,  and  at  once  set 
about  devising  means  for  her  relief.  As  his  purse 
was  as  lean  as  her  own  and  his  companions  were 
not  overburdened  with  the  means  to  get  back  to 


ANECDOTES    OF    LIFE   IN    DENVER     181 

Denver,  he  announced  a  grand  musical  and  dra 
matic  entertainment,  to  be  given  in  the  parlors  of 
the  hotel  that  evening,  for  the  benefit  of  a  deserv 
ing  charity.  Every  guest  in  the  hotel  was  invited, 
and  the  members  of  the  Press  Club  spread  the 
notices  among  the  citizens  of  the  village.  When 
asked  who  would  be  the  performers,  Field  an 
swered,  with  the  utmost  nonchalance,  that  the  Lord 
would  provide  the  entertainment  if  Manitou  would 
furnish  the  audience.  The  evening  came,  and  the 
parlors  were  crowded  with  guests  and  villagers,  but 
no  performers.  After  waiting  until  expectancy 
and  curiosity  had  almost  toppled  over  from  tiptoe 
to  disgust  and  indignation,  Field  stepped  to  the 
piano  with  preternatural  gravity  and  attacked  it 
with  all  the  grand  airs  of  a  foreign  virtuoso.  Crit 
ics  would  have  denied  that  Field  was  a  pianist,  and, 
technically  considered,  they  would  have  been  right. 
But  his  fingers  had  a  fondness  for  the  ivory  keys, 
and  they  responded  to  his  touch  with  the  sweet 
melody  of  the  forest  to  the  wind.  He  carried  all 
the  favorite  airs  of  all  the  operas  he  had  ever 
heard  in  his  fingers'  ends.  He  knew  the  popular 
songs  of  the  day  by  heart,  and,  where  memory 
failed,  could  improvise.  He  had  a  voice  for  the 
soft  and  deep  chords  of  negro  melodies  I  have  never 
heard  surpassed,  and  with  all,  he  had  a  command 


182  EUGENE   FIELD 

of  comedy  and  pathos  which,  up  to  this  time,  was 
little  known  beyond  the  circle  in  Denver  over 
which  he  reigned  as  the  Lord  of  Misrule.  That 
night  in  Manitou  those  who  were  present  reported 
that,  from  the  moment  he  sat  down  at  the  piano 
until  the  last  note  of  the  good-night  song  died 
away,  he  held  that  impromptu  audience  fascinated 
by  his  impromptu  performance.  By  turns  he  sang, 
played,  recited  poetry,  mimicked  actors  and  well- 
known  Colorado  characters,  told  anecdotes,  and  al 
together  gave  such  a  single-handed  entertainment 
that  the  spectators  did  not  know  whether  to  be 
more  astonished  at  its  variety  or  delighted  with  its 
genius.  The  result  was  a  generous  collection, 
which  went  far  to  relieve  the  distress  of  the  woman 
who  had  touched  Field's  sympathy. 

Let  it  not  be  understood  that  nothing  more 
serious  than  some  hilarious  escapade  or  sardonic  bit 
of  humor  ever  crossed  the  life  of  Eugene  Field  in 
Denver.  His  innate  hatred  of  humbug  and  sham 
made  the  Denver  Tribune  a  terror  to  all  public 
characters  who  considered  that  suddenly  acquired 
wealth  gave  them  a  free  hand  to  flaunt  ostentatious 
vulgarity  on  all  public  occasions. 


CHAPTER  XI 
COMING  TO  CHICAGO 

What  I  have  written  thus  far  of  Eugene  Field 
has  been  based  upon  what  the  lawyers  call  hear 
say  or  documentary  evidence.  It  has  for  the  most 
part  been  directly  heard  or  confirmed  from  his 
own  lips.  In  the  early  days  of  our  acquaintance 
the  stories  of  his  life  in  Denver  were  rife  through 
every  newspaper  office  and  green-room  in  the 
United  States.  No  one  who  had  spent  any  time 
in  Colorado  came  East  without  bringing  a  fresh 
budget  of  tales  of  the  pranks  and  pasquinades  of 
Eugene  Field,  of  the  Denver  Tribune.  The  clip 
ping  vogue  of  his  Primer  series  had  given  him 
a  newspaper  reputation  wide  as  the  continent.  He 
was  far  more  quoted,  however,  for  what  he  said 
and  did  than  for  anything  he  wrote.  Had  his 
career  ended  in  1883,  before  he  came  to  Chicago, 
there  would  have  been  little  or  nothing  left  of  lit 
erary  value  to  keep  his  memory  alive,  beyond  the 
regretful  mention  in  the  obituary  columns  of  the 

western  press. 

183 


184  EUGENE    FIELD 

And  it  came  near  ending,  like  the  candle  ex 
posed  to  the  gusts  of  March,  or  a  bubble  that  has 
danced  and  glistened  its  brief  moment  in  the  sun. 
The  boy  who  was  too  delicate  for  continued  appli 
cation  to  books  in  Amherst,  who  had  outgrown 
his  strength  so  that  his  entrance  at  Williams  was 
postponed  a  year,  whose  backwardness  at  his  books 
through  three  colleges  had  been  excused  on  the 
plea  of  ill-health,  had  been  living  a  pace  too  fast 
for  a  never  strong  and  always  rebellious  stomach. 
He  was  not  intemperate  in  eating  or  drinking.  It 
was  not  excess  in  the  first  that  ruined  his  digestion, 
nor  intemperance  in  the  other  that  caused  him  to 
become  a  total  abstainer  from  all  kinds  of  intoxi 
cating  beverages.  He  simply  became  a  dyspeptic 
through  a  weird  devotion  to  the  pieces  and  pastries. 
"  like  Mary  French  used  to  make,"  and  he  became 
a  teetotaler  because  the  doctors  mistook  the  cause 
of  his  digestive  distress. 

The  one  thing  of  which  Eugene  Field  was  in 
temperate  in  Denver  was  of  himself.  He  gave  to 
that  delicate  machinery  we  call  the  body  no  rest. 
It  was  winter  when  he  did  not  see  the  sun  rise 
several  times  a  week,  and  the  hours  he  stole  from 
daylight  for  sleep  were  too  few  and  infrequent  to 
make  up  for  the  nights  he  turned  into  day  for  work 
and  frolic.  Thus  it  came  about  that  in  the  sum- 


COMING    TO    CHICAGO  185 

mer  of  1883  Eugene  Field  had  reached  the  end 
of  his  physical  tether,  and  some  change  of  scene 
was  necessary  to  save  what  was  left  of  an  impaired 
constitution. 

From  what  has  been  said,  it  is  easy  to  under 
stand  how  Field's  abilities  were  diverted  into  a 
new  and  deeper  channel  in  1883.  "  Stricken  by 
dyspepsia,"  writes  Mr.  Cowen,  "  so  severely  that 
he  fell  into  a  state  of  chronic  depression  and  alarm, 
he  eagerly  accepted  the  timely  offer  of  Melville 
E.  Stone,  then  surrounding  himself  with  the  best 
talent  he  could  procure  in  the  West,  of  a  virtually 
independent  desk  on  the  Chicago  Morning  News. 
There  he  quickly  regained  health,  although  he 
never  recovered  from  his  ailment." 

How  Mr.  Stone  came  to  be  the  "  Fairy  God 
mother  "  to  Field  at  this  turning-point  in  his  life 
may  be  briefly  related,  and  partly  in  Mr.  Stone's 
own  words.  He  and  Victor  F.  Lawson  had  made 
a  surprising  success  in  establishing  the  Chicago 
Daily  News,  in  December,  1875,  the  first  one-cent 
evening  paper  in  Chicago.  It  is  related  that  in 
the  early  days  of  their  enterprise  they  had  to  im 
port  the  copper  coins  for  the  use  of  their  patrons — 
the  nickle  being  up  to  that  time  the  smallest  coin 
in  use  in  the  West,  as  the  dime,  or  "  short  bit,"  was 
until  a  more  recent  date  on  the  Pacific  coast.  The 


186  EUGENE    FIELD 

Daily  News  was  more  distinguished  for  its  enter 
prise  in  gathering  news  and  getting  it  out  on  the 
street  before  the  comparative  blanket  sheets  of  the 
early  eighties  than  for  its  editorial  views  or  liter 
ary  features. 

In  January,  1881,  Messrs.  Lawson  &  Stone  con 
ceived  the  idea  of  printing  a  morning  edition  of 
their  daily,  to  be  called  the  Morning  News.  As  it 
was  to  be  sold  for  two  cents,  it  was  their  purpose 
to  make  it  better  worth  the  price  by  a  more  exact 
ing  standard  in  the  manner  of  presenting  its  news 
and  by  the  employment  of  special  writers  for  its 
editorial  page.  Just  then,  however,  the  crop  of 
unemployed  writers  of  demonstrated  ability  or 
reputation  was  unusually  short,  and  the  founda 
tion  of  the  Chicago  Herald  in  May  of  the  same 
year,  by  half  a  dozen  energetic  journalists  of  local 
note,  did  not  tend  to  overstock  the  market  with 
the  talent  sought  for  by  Messrs.  Lawson  &  Stone. 
It  was  the  rivalry  between  the  Morning  News  (after 
wards  the  Record)  and  the  Herald,  that  sent  Mr. 
Stone  so  far  afield  as  Denver  for  a  man  to  assist 
him  in  realizing  the  idea  cherished  by  him  and  his 
associate.  An  interesting  story  could  be  told  of 
that  rivalry,  which  has  just  ended  by  the  consoli 
dation  of  the  two  papers  (March,  1901)  into  the 
Chicago  Record-Herald,  but  only  so  much  of  it  as 


COMING    TO    CHICAGO  187 

affects  the  life  and  movements  of  Eugene  Field 
concerns  us  here. 

In  the  early  summer  of  1883  Mr.  Stone,  who 
had  been  watching  with  appreciative  newspaper 
sense  the  popularity  of  the  Tribune  Primer  skits, 
cast  an  acquisitive  net  in  the  direction  of  Denver. 
He  had  known  Field  in  St.  Louis,  and  describes 
their  first  meeting  thus :  "  I  entered  the  office  of 
the  Dispatch  to  see  Stillson  Hutchins,  the  then 
proprietor  of  that  paper.  It  was  in  the  forenoon, 
the  busy  hour  for  an  afternoon  newspaper.  A 
number  of  people  were  there,  but  as  to  the  pro 
prietor,  clerks,  and  customers,  none  was  engaged 
in  any  business,  for,  perched  on  the  front  coun 
ter,  telling  in  a  strangely  resonant  voice  a  very 
funny  story,  sat  Eugene  Field.  He  was  a  striking 
figure,  tall,  gaunt,  almost  bald  (though  little  more 
than  twenty  years  of  age),  smooth  shaven,  and 
with  a  remarkable  face,  which  lent  itself  to  every 
variety  of  emotion.  In  five  minutes  after  our  in 
troduction  I  knew  him.  There  was  no  reserve 
about  him.  He  was  of  the  free,  whole-souled 
western  type — that  type  which  invites  your  confi 
dence  in  return  for  absolute  and  unstinted  frank 
ness." 

Instead  of  broaching  his  purpose  by  letter,  Mr. 
Stone  slipped  off  to  Denver  for  a  personal  inter- 


188  EUGENE   FIELD 

view  with  his  intended  victim,  and,  as  I  have  al 
ready  intimated,  he  arrived  just  in  the  nick  of 
time  to  find  Field  ready  for  any  move  that  would 
take  him  away  from  the  killing  kindness  and  exhila 
rating  atmosphere  of  the  Colorado  capital.  "  The 
engagement/7  says  Mr.  Stone,  "  was  in  itself  char 
acteristic.  Field  wanted  to  join  me.  He  was 
tired  of  Denver  and  mistrustful  of  the  limitations 
upon  him  there.  But  if  he  was  to  make  a  change, 
he  must  be  assured  that  it  was  to  be  for  his  perma 
nent  good.  He  was  a  newspaper  man  not  from 
choice,  but  because  in  that  field  he  could  earn  his 
daily  bread.  Behind  all  he  was  conscious  of  great 
capability  —  not  vain  or  by  any  means  self -suffi 
cient,  but  certain  that  by  study  and  endeavor  he 
could  take  high  rank  in  the  literary  world  and 
could  win  a  place  of  lasting  distinction.  So  he 
stipulated  that  he  should  be  given  a  column  of  his 
own,  that  he  might  stand  or  fall  by  the  excellence 
of  his  own  work.  Salary  was  less  an  object  than 
opportunity." 

Mr.  Stone  gave  the  necessary  assurances,  both 
as  to  salary — by  no  means  princely — and  opportun 
ity  as  large  as  Field  had  the  genius  to  fill.  As 
quickly  as  he  could,  Field  closed  up  his  Denver  con 
nections  and  prepared  for  the  last  move  in  his  news 
paper  life.  How  he  survived  the  round  of  fare- 


COMING    TO    CHICAGO  189 

well  luncheons,  dinners,  and  midnight  suppers 
given  for  and  by  him  was  a  source  of  mingled 
pride  and  amusement  to  the  chief  sufferer.  It  was 
with  feelings  of  genuine  regret  that  he  turned  his 
back  on  Denver  and  gave  up  the  jovial  and  con 
genial  association  with  the  Tribune  and  its  staff. 
Although  its  chief  editorial  writer,  O.  IT.  Kotha- 
ker,  had  a  national  reputation,  Field  was  the  star 
of  the  company  that  gave  to  the  Tribune  its  unique 
reputation  among  the  journals  of  the  West,  and 
all  classes  of  citizens  felt  that  something  pictu 
resquely  characteristic  of  the  liberty  and  good-fel 
lowship  of  their  bustling  town  was  being  taken 
from  them.  Field's  departure  meant  the  closing 
of  the  hobble-de-hoy  period  in  the  life  of  Denver 
as  well  as  in  his  own.  His  life  there  had  been 
exactly  suited  to  his  temperament,  to  the  times, 
and  to  the  environment.  It  is  doubtful  if  it  would 
have  been  possible  to  repeat  such  an  experience  in 
Denver  five  years  later,  and  it  is  certain  that  in 
five  years  Field  had  developed  whole  leagues  of 
character  beyond  its  repetition. 

It  was  in  August,  1883,  that  Eugene  Field,  with 
his  family  and  all  his  personal  effects,  except  his 
father's  library,  moved  to  Chicago.  That  library 
was  destined  to  remain  safely  stored  in  St.  Louis 
for  many  years  before  he  felt  financially  able  to 


190  EUGENE    FIELD 

afford  it  shelter  and  quarters  commensurate  with 
its  intrinsic  value  and  wealth  of  associations.  So 
far  in  his  newspaper  work  Field  had  little  time  and 
less  inclination  to  learn  from  books.  All  stories 
of  his  being  a  close  and  omnivorous  student  of 
books,  previous  to  his  coming  to  Chicago,  are  not 
consistent  with  the  facts.  He  was  learning  all 
about  humanity  by  constant  attrition  with  man 
kind.  He  was  taking  in  knowledge  of  the  human 
passions  and  emotions  at  first  hand  and  getting 
very  little  assistance  through  pouring  over  the 
printed  observations  of  others.  He  was  not  a 
classical  scholar  in  the  sense  of  having  acquired 
any  mastery  of  or  familiarity  with  the  great  Latin 
or  Greek  writers.  Language,  all  languages,  was  a 
study  that  was  easy  to  him,  and  he  acquired  facil 
ity  in  translating  any  foreign  tongue,  living  or 
dead,  with  remarkable  readiness  by  the  aid  of  a 
dictionary  and  a  nimble  wit.  Student  in  St.  Louis, 
Kansas  City,  or  Denver  he  was  not,  any  more  than 
at  Williams,  Galesburg,  or  Columbia.  But  I  have 
no  doubt  that  when  Eugene  Field  left  Denver  he 
had  a  fixed  intention,  as  suggested  in  the  words 
of  Mr.  Stone,  by  study  and  endeavor  to  take  high 
rank  in  the  literary  world  and  to  "  win  a  place  of 
lasting  distinction." 

When  he  came  to  Chicago  his  family  consisted 


COMING    TO    CHICAGO  191 

of  Mrs.  Field  and  their  four  children,  all,  happily 
for  him,  in  vigorous  health,  and,  so  far  as  the  chil 
dren  were  concerned,  endowed  with  appetites  and 
a  digestion  the  envy  and  despair  of  their  father. 
"  Trotty,"  the  eldest,  was  by  this  time  a  girl  of 
eight,  Melvin  a  stout  sober  youth  of  six,  "  Pinny  " 
(Eugene,  Jr.)  a  shrewd  little  rascal  of  four,  and 
"  Daisy  "  (Fred),  his  mother's  boy,  a  large-eyed, 
sturdy  youngster  of  nearly  three  masterful  sum 
mers.  The  family  was  quickly  settled  in  a  small 
but  convenient  flat  on  Chicago  Avenue,  three 
blocks  from  the  Lake,  and  a  little  more  than  a 
mile's  walk  from  the  office,  a  distance  that  never 
tempted  Field  to  exercise  his  legs  except  on  one 
occasion,  when  it  afforded  him  a  chance  to  aston 
ish  the  natives  of  North  Chicago.  It  occurred  to 
him  one  bleak  day  in  December  that  it  was  time 
the  people  knew  there  was  a  stranger  in  town.  So 
he  arrayed  himself  in  a  long  linen  duster,  buttoned 
up  from  knees  to  collar,  put  an  old  straw  hat  on 
his  head,  and  taking  a  shabby  book  under  one  arm 
and  a  palm-leaf  fan  in  his  hand,  he  marched  all  the 
way  down  Clark  Street,  past  the  City  Hall,  to  the 
office.  Everywhere  along  the  route  he  was 
greeted  with  jeers  or  pitying  words,  as  his  appear 
ance  excited  the  mirth  or  commiseration  of  the 
passers-by.  When  he  reached  the  entrance  to  the 


192  EUGENE   FIELD 

Daily  News  office  he  was  followed  by  a  motley 
crowd  of  noisy  urchins  whom  he  dismissed  with  a 
grimace  and  the  cabalistic  gesture  with  which 
Nicholas  Koorn  perplexed  and  repulsed  Antony 
Van  Corlear  from  the  battlement  of  the  fortress 
of  Rensellaerstein.  Then  closing  the  door  in  their 
astonished  faces,  he  mounted  the  two  flights  of 
stairs  to  the  editorial  rooms,  where  he  recounted, 
with  the  glee  of  the  boy  he  was  in  such  things,  the 
success  of  his  joke. 

Trotty  was  his  favorite  child,  probably  because 
she  was  the  only  girl,  and  he  was  very  fond  of  little 
girls.  Even  then  she  favored  her  father  in  com 
plexion  and  features  more  than  any  of  the  boys, 
having  the  same  large  innocent-looking  blue  eyes. 
But  even  she  had  to  serve  his  disposition  to  extract 
humor  from  every  situation.  Before  Field  had 
been  in  Chicago  two  months  he  realized  that  he 
had  made  a  serious  miscalculation  in  impressing 
Mr.  Stone  with  the  thought  that  salary  was  less 
an  object  to  him  than  opportunity.  Opportunity 
had  not  sufficed  to  meet  Field's  bills  in  Denver,  and 
the  promised  salary,  that  seemed  temptingly  suffi 
cient  at  the  distance  of  a  thousand  miles,  proved 
distressingly  inadequate  to  feed  and  clothe  three 
lusty  boys  and  one  growing  girl  in  the  bracing 
atmosphere  of  Chicago.  So  it  was  not  surprising 


COMING    TO    CHICAGO  193 

that  when  Trotty  asked  her  father  to  give  her  an 
appropriate  text  to  recite  in  Sunday-school,  he 
schooled  her  to  rise  and  declaim  with  great  effect: 
"  The  Lord  will  provide,  my  father  can't!  " 
The  means  Field  took  to  bring  the  insufficiency 
of  his  salary  to  the  attention  of  Mr.  Stone  were  as 
ingenious  as  they  were  frequent.  I  don't  think  he 
would  have  appreciated  an  increase  of  salary  that 
came  without  some  exercise  of  his  wayward  fancy 
for  making  mirth  out  of  any  embarrassing  financial 
condition. 

It  is  more  than  probable  that  Eugene  Field 
chose  Chicago  for  the  place  of  his  permanent 
abode  after  deliberately  weighing  the  advantages 
and  limitations  of  its  situation  with  reference  to 
his  literary  career.  He  felt  that  it  was  as  far  east 
as  he  could  make  his  home  without  coming  within 
the  influence  of  those  social  and  literary  conven 
tions  that  have  squeezed  so  much  of  genuine  Amer 
ican  flavor  out  of  our  literature.  He  had  received 
many  tempting  offers  from  New  York  newspapers 
before  coming  to  Chicago,  and  after  our  acquaint 
ance  I  do  not  believe  a  year  went  by  that  Field 
did  not  decline  an  engagement,  personally  ten 
dered  by  Mr.  Dana,  to  go  to  the  New  York  Sun, 
at  a  salary  nearly  double  that  he  was  receiving 
here.  But,  as  he  told  Julian  Ralph  on  one  occa- 
VOL.  I.— 18 


194  EUGENE    FIELD 

sion,  he  would  not  live  in,  or  write  for,  the  East. 
For,  as  he  put  it,  there  was  more  liberty  and  fewer 
literary  "  fellers  "  out  West,  and  a  man  had  more 
chance  to  be  judged  on  his  merits  and  "  grow  up 
with  the  country." 

The  Chicago  to  which  Eugene  Field  came  in 
1883  was  a  city  of  something  over  six  hundred 
thousand  inhabitants,  and  pulsing  with  active  po 
litical  and  commercial  life.  It  had  been  rebuilt, 
physically,  after  the  fire  with  money  borrowed 
from  the  East,  and  was  almost  too  busy  paying 
interest  and  principal  to  have  much  time  to  read 
books,  much  less  make  them,  except  in  the  wholly 
manufacturing  sense.  It  had  already  become  a 
great  publishing  centre,  but  not  of  the  books  that 
engage  the  critical  intelligence  of  the  public.  The 
feverish  devotion  of  its  citizens  to  business  during 
the  day-time  drove  them  to  bed  at  an  unseason 
ably  early  hour,  or  to  places  of  amusement,  from 
which  they  went  so  straight  home  after  the  per 
formances  that  there  was  not  a  single  fashionable 
restaurant  in  the  city  catering  to  supper  parties 
after  the  play.  Whether  this  condition,  making 
theatre-going  less  expensive  here  than  in  other 
large  cities,  conduced  to  the  result  or  not,  it  was 
a  fact  that  in  the  early  eighties  Chicago  was  the 
best  paying  city  on  the  continent  for  theatrical 


COMING    TO    CHICAGO  195 

companies  of  all  degrees  of  merit.  The  losses 
which  the  best  artists  and  plays  almost  invariably 
reported  of  New  York  engagements  were  fre 
quently  recouped  in  Chicago. 

Chicago  never  took  kindly  to  grand  opera,  and 
probably  for  the  same  reason  that  it  patronized 
the  drama.  It  sought  entertainment  and  amuse 
ment,  and  grand  opera  is  a  serious  business.  As 
Field  said  of  himself,  Chicago  liked  music 
"  limited";  and  its  liking  was  generally  limited 
to  light  or  comic  opera  and  the  entertainments  of 
the  Apollo  Club,  until  Theodore  Thomas,  with 
admirable  perseverance,  aided  by  the  pocket- 
books  of  public-spirited  citizens  rather  than  by 
enthusiastic  music-lovers,  succeeded  in  cultivating 
the  study  and  love  of  music  up  to  a  standard  above 
that  of  any  other  American  city,  with  the  possible 
exception  of  Boston. 

I  have  referred  to  the  theatrical  and  musical 
conditions  in  Chicago  in  1883,  because  it  was  in 
them  that  Eugene  Field  found  his  most  congenial 
atmosphere  and  associations  when  he  came  hither 
that  year.  These  were  the  chief  reminders  of  the 
life  he  had  left  behind  when  he  turned  his  back 
on  Denver,  and  I  need  scarcely  say  that  they  con 
tinued  to  afford  him  the  keenest  pleasure  and  the 
most  unalloyed  recreation  to  the  end. 


196  EUGENE    FIELD 

Architecturally,  Chicago  was  no  more  beautiful 
and  far  less  impressive  than  it  is  now.  It  could 
not  boast  half  a  dozen  buildings,  public  or  private, 
worthy  of  a  second  glance.  Its  tallest  skyscraper 
stopped  at  nine  stories,  and  that  towered  a  good 
two  stories  over  its  nearest  rival.  The  bridges 
across  the  river  connecting  the  three  divisions  of 
the  city  were  turned  slowly  and  laboriously  by 
hand,  and  the  joke  was  current  that  a  Chicagoan 
of  those  days  could  never  hear  a  bell  ring  without 
starting  on  a  run  to  avoid  being  bridged.  The 
cable-car  was  an  experiment  on  one  line,  and  all 
the  other  street-cars  were  operated  with  horses 
and  stopped  operation  at  12.20  A.M.,  as  Field  often 
learned  to  his  infinite  disgust,  for  he  hated  walk 
ing  worse  than  he  did  horses  or  horse-cars.  In  many 
ways  Chicago  reminded  Field  of  Denver,  and  in 
no  respect  more  than  in  its  primitive  ways,  its  as 
sumed  airs  of  importance,  and  its  township  poli 
tics.  Despite  its  forty  odd  years  of  incorporated 
life,  Chicago,  the  third  city  of  the  United  States, 
was  still  a  village,  and  Field  insisted  on  regard 
ing  it  as  such. 

Transplanted  from  the  higher  altitude  at  the 
foot  of  the  Eockies  to  the  level  of  Lake  Michigan, 
I  think  nothing  about  Chicago  struck  him  more 
forcibly  than  the  harshness  of  its  variable  sum- 


COMING    TO    CHICAGO  197 

mer  climate.  Scarcely  a  week  went  by  that  his 
column  did  not  contain  some  reference  in  para 
graph  or  verse  to  its  fickle  alarming  changes.  Ho 
had  not  enough  warm  blood  back  of  that  large 
gray  face  to  rejoice  when  the  mercury  dropped  in 
an  hour,  as  it  often  did,  from  88  or  90  degrees  to 
56  or  60  degrees.  Such  changes,  which  came  with 
the  whirl  of  the  weather  vane,  as  the  wind  shifted 
from  its  long  sweep  over  the  prairies,  all  aquiver 
with  the  heat,  to  a  strong  blow  over  hundreds  of 
miles  of  water  whose  temperature  in  dog  days 
never  rose  above  60  degrees,  provoked  from  him 
verses  such  as  these,  written  in  the  respective 
months  they  celebrate  in  the  year  1884: 

CHICAGO  IN  JULY 

The  white-capp'd  waves  of  Michigan  break 

On  the  beach  where  the  jacksnipes  croon — 
The  breeze  sweeps  in  from  the  purple  lake 

And  tempers  the  heat  of  noon: 
In  yonder  bush,  where  the  berries  grow, 

The  Peewee  tunefully  sings, 
While  hither  and  thither  the  people  go, 

Attending  to  matters  and  things. 

There  is  cool  for  all  in  the  busy  town — 
For  the  girls  in  their  sealskin  sacques — 

For  the  dainty  dudes  idling  up  and  down, 
With  overcoats  on  their  backs; 


198  EUGENE    FIELD 

And  the  horse-cars  lurch  and  the  people  run 
And  the  bell  at  the  bridgeway  rings — 

But  never  perspires  a  single  one, 
Attending  to  matters  and  tilings. 

What  though  the  shivering  mercury  wanes — 

What  though  the  air  be  chill? 
The  beauteous  Chloe  never  complains 

As  she  roams  by  the  purpling  rill; 
And  the  torn-tit  coos  to  its  gentle  mate, 

As  Chloe  industriously  swings 
With  Daphnis,  her  beau,  on  the  old  front  gate, 

Attending  to  matters  and  things. 

When  the  moon  comes  up,  and  her  cold,  pale  light 

Coquettes  with  the  freezing  streams, 
What  care  these  twain  for  the  wintry  night, 

Since  Chloe  is  wrapt  in  dreams, 
And  Daphnis  utters  no  plaint  of  woe 

O'er  his  fair  jack  full  on  kings, 
But  smiles  that  fortune  should  bless  him  so, 

Attending  to  matters  and  things. 


CHICAGO  IN  AUGUST 

When  Cynthia's  father  homeward  brought 
An  India  mull  for  her  to  wear, 

How  were  her  handsome  features  fraught 
With  radiant  smiles  beyond  compare! 


COMING    TO    CHICAGO  199 

And  to  her  bosom  Cynthia  strained 
Her  pa  with  many  a  fond  caress — 

And  ere  another  week  had  waned 
That  mull  was  made  into  a  dress. 

And  Cynthia  blooming  like  a  rose 

Which  any  swain  might  joy  to  cull, 
Cried  "  How  I'll  paralyze  the  beaux 

When  I  put  on  my  India  mull!  " 
Now  let  the  heat  of  August  day 

Be  what  it  may — I'll  not  complain — 
I'll  wear  the  mull,  and  put  away 

This  old  and  faded-out  delaine! 

Despite  her  prayers  the  heated  spell 

Descended  not  on  mead  and  wold — 
Instead  of  turning  hot  as — well, 

The  weather  turned  severely  cold, 
The  Lake  dashed  up  its  icy  spray 

And  breathed  its  chill  o'er  all  the  plain — 
So  Cynthia  stays  at  home  all  day 

And  wears  the  faded-out  delaine! 

So  is  Chicago  at  this  time — 

She  stands  where  icy  billows  roll — 
She  wears  her  beauteous  head  sublime, 

While  cooling  zephyrs  thrill  her  soul. 
But  were  she  tempted  to  complain, 

Meihinks  she'd  bid  the  zephyrs  lull, 
That  she  might  doff  her  old  delaine 

And  don  her  charming  India  mull! 


200  EUGENE   FIELD 

But  there  was  another  feature  of  Chicago  that 
from  the  day  of  his  arrival  to  the  day  of  his  de 
parture  to  that  land  where  dust  troubleth  not  and 
soot  and  filth  are  unknown,  filled  his  New  Eng 
land  soul  and  nostrils  with  ineffable  disgust.  He 
never  became  reconciled  to  a  condition  in  which 
the  motto  in  hoc  signo  vinces  on  a  bar  of  soap  had 
no  power  to  inspire  a  ray  of  hope.  He  had  not 
been  here  a  month  before  his  muse  began  to  wield 
the  "  knotted  lash  of  sarcasm  "  above  the  strenu 
ous  but  dirty  back  of  Chicago  after  this  fashion : 

Brown,  a  Chicago  youth,  did  woo 

A  beauteous  Detroit  belle, 
And  for  a  month — or,  maybe,  two — 

He  wooed  the  lovely  lady  well. 

But,  oh  !  one  day — one  fatal  day — 
As  mused  the  belle  with  naught  to  do, 

A  local  paper  came  her  way 

And,  drat  the  luck!  she  read  it  through. 

She  read  of  alleys  black  with  mire — 

A  river  with  a  putrid  breath — 
Streets  reeking  with  malarial  ire — 

Inviting  foul  disease  and  death. 

Then,  with  a  livid  snort  she  called 

Her  trembling  lover  to  her  side — 
"  How  dare  you,  wretched  youth/'  she  bawled, 

"  Ask  me  to  be  your  blushing  bride? 


COMING    TO    CHICAGO  201 

Go  back  unto  your  filthy  town, 

And  never  by  my  side  be  seen, 
Nor  hope  to  make  me  Mrs.  Brown, 

Until  you've  got  your  city  clean!  " 

Eugene  Field  made  his  first  appearance  in  the 
column  of  the  Morning  News  August  15th,  1883, 
in  the  most  modest  way,  with  a  scant  column  of 
paragraphs  such  as  he  had  contributed  to  the  Den 
ver  Tribune,  headed  "  Current  Gossip "  instead 
of  "  Odds  and  Ends."  The  heading  was  only  a 
makeshift  until  a  more  distinctive  one  could  be 
chosen  in  its  stead.  On  August  31st,  1883,  the 
title  "  Sharps  and  Flats  "  was  hoisted  to  the  top 
of  Field's  column,  and  there  it  remained  over 
everything  he  wrote  for  more  than  a  dozen  years. 

There  have  been  many  versions  of  how  Field 
came  to  hit  upon  this  title,  so  appropriate  to  what 
appeared  under  it.  The  most  ingenious  of  these 
was  that  evolved  by  John  B.  Livingstone  in  "  An 
Appreciation  "  of  Eugene  Field,  published  in  the 
Interior  shortly  after  his  death.  In  what,  on  the 
whole,  is  probably  the  best  analysis  of  Field's 
genius  and  work  extant,  Mr.  Livingstone  goes  on 
to  say: 

"  What  Virgil  was  to  Tennyson,  Horace  was  to 
Field  in  one  aspect  at  least  of  the  Venusian's  char- 


202  EUGENE   FIELD 

acter.  He  could  say  of  his  affection  for  the 
protege  of  Maecenas,  as  the  laureate  said  of  his 
for  the  '  poet  of  the  happy  Tityrus,'  '  I  that  loved 
thee  since  my  day  began.'  It  has  been  suggested 
that  he  owed  to  a  clever  farce-comedy  of  the  early 
eighties  the  caption  of  the  widely-read  column  of 
journalistic  epigram  and  persiflage,  which  he  filled 
with  machine-like  regularity  and  the  versatility  of 
the  brightest  French  journalism  for  ten  years.  I 
prefer  to  think  that  he  took  it,  or  his  cue  for 
it,  from  a  line  of  Dr.  Phillips  Francis's  transla 
tion  of  the  eighth  of  the  first  book  of  Horatian 
Satires : 

Not  to  be  tedious  or  repeat 

How  Flats  and  Sharps  in  concert  meet. 

"  Field's  knowledge  of  Horace  and  of  his  trans 
lators  was  complete,  probably  not  equalled  by  that 
of  any  other  member  of  his  craft.  He  made  a 
specialty  of  the  study,  a  hobby  of  it.  And  it  is 
more  likely,  as  it  is  more  gratifying,  to  believe  that 
he  caught  his  famous  caption  (Sharps  and  Flats) 
from  a  paraphrase  of  his  favorite  classic  poet  than 
from  the  play  bill  of  a  modern  and  ephemeral 
farce." 

Unfortunately  for  this  pretty  bit  of  speculation, 
which  Field  would  have  enjoyed  as  another  evi- 


COMING    TO    CHICAGO  203 

dence  of  his  skill  in  imposing  upon  the  elect  of 
criticism,  it  has  no  foundation  in  fact,  and  its 
premises  of  Field's  intimate  knowledge  and  devo 
tion  to  Horace  anticipates  the  period  of  his  Hora- 
tian  "  hobby,"  as  Mr.  Livingstone  so  well  styles 
it,  by  at  least  five  years.  It  was  not  until  the 
winter  of  1888-89  that  paraphrases  of  Horace  be 
gan  to  stud  his  column  with  the  first-fruits  of 
his  tardy  wandering  and  philandering  with  Dr. 
Frank  W.  Reilly  through  the  groves  and  mead 
ows  of  the  Sabine  farm.  But  that  is  another 
story. 

According  to  M.  E.  Stone,  the  title  of  the  column 
which  Field  established  when  he  came  to  the 
Chicago  Morning  News  was  borrowed  from  the 
name  of  a  play,  "  Sharps  and  Flats,'7  written  by 
Clay  M.  Greene  and  myself,  and  played  with  con 
siderable  success  throughout  the  United  States  by 
Messrs.  Robson  and  Crane. 

It  may  be  set  down  here  as  well  as  elsewhere, 
and  still  quoting  Mr.  Stone,  that  not  only  did  Field 
write  nearly  every  line  that  ever  appeared  in  the 
"  Sharps  and  Flats  "  column,  but  that  practically 
everything  that  he  ever  wrote,  after  1883,  ap-^ 
peared  at  one  time  or  another  in  that  column. 

To  which  it  may  be  added  that  it  has  been  the 
custom  of  those  writing  of  Eugene  Field  to  sur- 


204  EUGENE    FIELD 

round  and  endow  him  throughout  his  career  with 
the  acquirement  of  scholarship,  and  pecuniary  in 
dependence,  which  he  never  possessed  before  the 
last  six  years  of  his  life. 

Practically  all  Field's  scholarship  and  mental 
equipment,  so  far  as  they  were  obtained  from 
books,  were  acquired  after  he  came  to  Chicago, 
and  he  was  never  lifted  above  the  ragged  edge  of 
impecuniosity  until  he  began  to  receive  royalties 
from  the  popular  edition  of  "  A  Little  Book  of 
Western  Verse  "  and  "  A  Little  Book  of  Profitable 
Tales."  His  domestic  life  was  spent  in  flats  or 
rented  houses  until  less  than  five  months  before  his 
death.  The  photographs  taken  a  few  months  be 
fore  his  death  of  Eugene  Field's  home  and  the 
beautiful  library  in  which  he  wrote  are  ghastly 
travesties  on  the  nomadic  character  of  his  domes 
tic  arrangements  for  many  years  before  June, 
1895 — dreams  for  which  he  longed,  but  only  lived 
to  realize  for  four  brief  months.  All  the  best 
Field  wrote  previous  to  1890 — and  it  includes  the 
best  he  ever  wrote,  except  "  The  Love  Affairs  of  a 
Bibliomaniac  " — was  written  in  a  room  to  which 
many  a  box  stall  is  palatial,  and  his  sole  library  was 
a  dilapidated  edition  of  Bartlett's  "  Familiar  Quo 
tations,"  Cruden's  "  Concordance  of  the  Bible," 
and  a  well-thumbed  copy  of  the  King  James 


COMING    TO    CHICAGO  205 

version  of  the  Bible.  He  detested  the  revised 
version.  The  genius  of  this  man  at  this  time  did 
not  depend  on  scholarship  or  surroundings,  but 
on  the  companionship  of  his  fellows  and  the  un- 
conventionality  of  his  home  life. 


CHAPTEE  XII 

PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS 

It  was  in  the  month  of  September,  after  Field's 
coming  to  the  Morning  News,  that  a  managerial 
convulsion  in  the  office  of  the  Chicago  Herald 
threw  the  majority  of  its  editorial  corps  and 
special  writers  across  Fifth  Avenue  into  the  em 
ploy  of  Messrs.  Lawson  &  Stone.  They  were  at 
first  distributed  between  the  morning  and  evening 
editions  of  the  News,  my  first  work  being  for  the 
latter,  to  which  I  contributed  editorial  paragraphs 
for  one  week,  when  Mr.  Stone  concluded  to  make 
me  his  chief  editorial  writer  on  the  Morning  News. 
This  brought  me  into  immediate  personal  and  pro 
fessional  relations  with  Field.  Our  rooms  ad 
joined,  being  separated  by  a  board  partition  that 
did  not  reach  to  the  ceiling  and  over  which  for 
four  years  I  was  constantly  bombarded  with  mis 
sives  and  missiles  from  my  ever-restless  neighbor. 
Among  the  other  recruits  from  the  Herald  at  that 
time  was  John  F.  Ballantyne,  who,  from  being 
the  managing  editor  of  that  paper,  was  transferred 
to  the  position  of  chief  executive  of  the  Morning 

206 


PEKSONAL   CHAEACTBBISTICS       207 

News  under  Mr.  Stone.  One  of  the  first  duties 
of  his  position  was  to  read  Field's  copy  very 
closely,  to  guard  against  the  publication  of  such 
bitter  innuendoes  and  scandalous  personalities  as 
had  kept  the  Denver  Tribune  in  constant  hot 
water  between  warlike  descents  upon  the  editor 
and  costly  appeals  to  the  courts.  Mr.  Stone 
wanted  all  the  racy  wit  that  had  distinguished 
Field's  contributions  to  the  Tribune  without  the 
attendant  crop  of  libel  suits,  and  he  relied  on 
Ballantyne's  Scotch  caution  to  put  a  query  mark 
against  every  paragraph  that  squinted  at  a  breach 
of  propriety  or  a  breach  of  the  peace,  or  that  in 
vited  a  libel  suit.  There  was  no  power  of  final 
rejection  in  Ballantyne's  blue  pencil.  That  was 
left  for  Mr.  Stone's  own  decision.  It  was  well 
that  it  was  so,  for  Mr.  Ballantyne's  appreciation 
of  humor  was  so  rigid  that,  had  it  been  the  ar 
biter  as  to  which  of  Field's  paragraphs  should  be 
printed,  I  greatly  fear  me  there  would  often  have 
been  a  dearth  of  gayety  in  the  "  Sharps  and  Flats." 
The  relations  in  which  Ballantyne  and  I  found  our 
selves  to  Field  can  best  be  told  in  the  language  of 
Mr.  Cowen,  whose  own  intimate  relations  wit>h 
Field  antedated  ours  and  continued  to  the  end: 

"  Coming  immediately  under  the  influence  of 
John  Ballantyne  and  Slason  Thompson,  respect- 


208  EUGENE    FIELD 

ively  managing  editor  and  chief  editorial  writer 
of  the  News — the  one  possessed  of  Scotch  gravity 
and  the  other  of  fine  literary  taste  and  discrim 
ination  —  the  character  of  Field's  work  quickly 
modified,  and  his  free  and  easy,  irregular  habits 
succumbed  to  studious  application  and  methodical 
labors.  Ballantyne  used  the  blue  pencil  tenderly, 
first  attacking  Field's  trick  fabrications  and  sup 
pressing  the  levity  which  found  vent  in  preceding 
years  in  such  pictures  of  domestic  felicity  as: 

Baby  and,  I  the  weary  night 

Are  taking  a  walk  for  his  delight, 

I  drowsily  stumble  o'er  stool  and  chair 

And  clasp  the  babe  with  grim  despair, 

For  he's  got  the  colic 

And  paregoric 
Don't  seem  to  ease  my  squalling  heir. 

Baby  and  I  in  the  morning  gray 
Are  griping  and  squalling  and  walking  away — 
The  fire's  gone  out  and  I  nearly  freeze — 
There's  a  smell  of  peppermint  on  the  breeze. 

Then  Mamma  wakes 

And  the  baby  takes 
And  says,  "  Now  cook  the  breakfast  please." 

"  The  every-day  practical  joker  and  entertain 
ing  mimic  of  Denver  recoiled  in  Chicago  from  the 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS       209 

reputation  of  a  Merry  Andrew,  the  prospect  of 
gaining  which  he  disrelished  and  feared.  He  pre 
ferred  to  invent  paragraphic  pleasantries  for  the 
world  at  large  and  indulge  his  personal  humor  in  the 
office,  at  home,  or  with  personal  friends.  Gayety 
was  his  element.  He  lived,  loved,  inspired,  and 
translated  it,  in  the  doing  which  latter  he  wrote, 
without  strain  or  embarrassment,  reams  of  prose 
satire,  conies  risques,  and  Hudibrastic  verse." 

It  is  a  singular  illustration  of  the  irony  and 
mutations  of  life  that  one  of  the  early  paragraphs 
Field  wrote  for  the  "  Sharps  and  Flats  "  column 
was  inspired  by  what  was  supposed  to  be  a  fatal 
assault  on  his  friend  by  a  notorious  political  ruffian 
in  Leadville.  The  paragraph,  which  appeared  on 
September  12th,  1883,  is  interesting  as  a  specimen 
of  Field's  style  at  that  period,  and  as  showing  in 
what  esteem  he  held  Cowen,  with  whom  he  had 
been  associated  on  the  Denver  Tribune  and  whose 
name  recurs  in  these  pages  from  time  to  time : 

Edward  D.  Cowen,  the  city  editor  of  the  Leadville 
Herald,  who  was  murderously  assaulted  night  before 
last  by  a  desperado  named  Joy,  was  one  of  the  bright 
est  newspaper  men  in  the  West.  He  came  originally 
from  Massachusetts,  and  has  relatives  living  in  the 
southern  part  of  Illinois.  He  was  about  thirty  years 
of  age.  He  went  to  Leadville  about  three  months  ago 
VOL.  I. —14 


210  EUGENE    FIELD 

to  work  on  ex- Senator  Tabor's  paper,  the  Herald,  and 
was  doing  excellently  well.  He  was  a  protege,  to  a 
certain  extent,  of  Mrs.  Tabor  No.  2.  She  admired 
his  brilliancy,  and  volunteered  to  help  him  in  any 
possible  way.  It  was  speaking  of  him  that  she  said : 
"  My  life  will  henceforth  be  devoted  to  assisting 
worthy  young  men.  In  life  we  must  prepare  for 
death,  and  how  can  we  better  prepare  for  death  than 
by  helping  our  fellow-creatures  ?  Alas !  "  she  added 
with  a  sad,  sad  sigh,  "  alas !  death  is,  after  all,  what 
we  live  for."  Young  Co  wen  had  all  the  social  graces 
men  and  women  admire;  he  was  bright  in  intellect, 
great  in  heart,  and  hearty  of  manner.  The  loss  of 
no  young  man  we  know  of  would  be  more  deplored 
than  his  demise. 

Cowen  never  wholly  recovered  from  the  effects 
of  his  encounter  with  Joy,  but  he  survived  to  joke 
with  Field  over  the  past  tense  in  which  this  para 
graph  is  couched,  and  to  afford  me  valuable  assist 
ance  in  completing  this  character-study  of  our 
friend. 

I  have  already  referred  to  the  "  box  stall "  in 
which  Field  sawed  his  daily  wood,  as  he  was  ac 
customed  to  call  his  work.  As  the  day  of  think 
ing  that  any  old  pine  table,  with  a  candle  box  for 
a  chair,  crowded  off  in  any  sort  of  a  dingy  garret, 
was  good  enough  for  the  writers  who  contributed 
"  copy  "  for  a  newspaper,  has  been  succeeded  by 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS        211 

an  era  of  quarter-sawed  oak  desks,  swivel  chairs, 
electric  light,  and  soap  and  water  in  editorial 
quarters  throughout  the  country,  let  me  attempt 
to  describe  the  original  editorial  rooms  of  the  Daily 
News  less  than  twenty  years  ago.  The  various 
departments  of  the  paper  occupied  what  had  been 
three  four-story,  twenty-five-foot  buildings.  The 
floors  of  no  two  of  these  buildings  above  the  first 
story  were  on  the  same  level.  They  had  evidently 
been  originally  built  for  lodging  houses.  The 
presses  and  storerooms  for  the  rolls  of  paper  filled 
the  cellars.  The  business  office  occupied  one 
store,  which  was  flanked  on  either  side  by  stores 
that  would  have  been  more  respectable  had  they 
been  rented  as  saloons,  which  they  were  not,  be 
cause  of  the  conscientious  scruples  of  Messrs.  Law- 
son  &  Stone.  Parts  of  two  of  the  buildings  were 
still  rented  as  lodgings.  Up  one  flight  of  stairs 
of  the  centre  building,  in  the  front,  Mr.  Stone  had 
his  office,  which  was  approached  through  what  had 
been  a  hall  bedroom.  His  room  was  furnished 
with  black  walnut,  and  a  gloomy  and  oppressive 
air  of  mystery.  Mr.  Stone  had  the  genius  and 
the  appearance  of  a  chief  inquisitor.  He  was  as 
alert,  daring,  and  enterprising  an  editor  as  the 
West  has  ever  produced. 

The  rear  of  this  twenty-five-foot  building  was 


212  EUGENE   FIELD 

given  up  to  the  library  and  to  George  E.  Plumbe, 
the  editor  for  many  years  of  the  Daily  News 
Almanac  and  Political  Register.  The  library  con 
sisted  of  files  of  nearly  all  the  Chicago  dailies, 
of  Congressional  Records  and  reports,  the  lead 
ing  almanacs,  the  "  Statesman's  Year  Book/'  sev 
eral  editions  of  "  Men  of  the  Times,"  half  a  dozen 
encyclopaedias,  the  Imperial  and  Webster's  dic 
tionaries,  a  few  other  text  books,  and  about  two 
inches  of  genuine  Chicago  soot  which  incrusted 
everything.  The  theory  advanced  by  Field's 
friend,  William  F.  Poole,  then  of  the  Public 
Library  and  later  of  the  Newberry  Library,  that 
dust  is  the  best  preservative  of  books,  rendered  it 
necessary  that  the  only  washstand  accessible  to  the 
Morning  News  should  be  located  in  the  library. 
None  of  us  ever  came  out  of  that  library  as  we 
went  in — the  one  clean  roller  a  day  forbade  it. 
Nothing  but  the  conscientious  desire  to  embellish 
our  "  copy  "  with  enough  facts  and  references  to 
make  a  showing  of  erudition  ever  induced  Field 
or  any  of  the  active  members  of  the  editorial  staff 
to  borrow  the  library  key  from  Ballantyne  to 
break  in  upon  the  soporific  labors  of  Mr.  Plumbe. 
Here  the  editorial  conferences,  which  Field  has 
illustrated,  were  held. 

Before   quitting    the   library,    which   has   since 


214  EUGENE   FIELD 

grown,  in  new  quarters,  to  be  one  of  the  most  com 
prehensive  newspaper  libraries  in  the  country,  I 
cannot  forbear  printing  one  of  Field's  choice  bits 
at  the  expense  of  the  occupants  of  this  floor  of  the 
Daily  News  office.  It  has  no  title,  but  is  supposed 
to  be  a  soliloquy  of  Mr.  Stone's: 

I  wish  my  men  were  more  like  Plumbe 

And  not  so  much  like  me — 
/  hate  to  see  the  paper  hum 

When  it  should  stupid  ~be. 
For  when  a  lot  of  wit  and  rhyme 

Appears  upon  our  pages, 
I  know  too  well  my  men  in  time 

Will  ask  a  raise  in  wages. 

I  love  to  sit  around  and  chin 

With  folk  of  doubtful  fame, 
But  oh,  it  seems  a  dreadful  sin 

When  others  do  the  same; 
For  others  gad  to  get  the  news 

To  use  in  their  profession. 
But  anything  I  get  I  use 

For  purpose  of  suppression. 

Field's  poetical  license  here  does  injustice  to  Mr. 
Stone,  whose  inquisitions  generally  concerned  mat 
ters  of  public  or  political  concern  and  whose  prac 
tice  of  the  editorial  art  of  suppression  was  never 


PEESONAL   CHAEACTERISTICS        215 

exercised  with  any  other  motive  than  the  public 
good  or  the  sound  discretion  of  the  editor,  who 
knew  that  the  libel  suits  most  to  be  feared  were 
those  where  the  truth  about  some  scalawag  was 
printed  without  having  the  affidavits  in  the  vault 
and  a  double  hitch  on  the  witnesses. 

Up  another  long,  narrow,  dark  stairway  was  the 
office  of  Mr.  Ballantyne,  the  managing  editor. 
He  occupied  what  had  been  a  rear  hall  bedroom, 
7  x  10  feet.  He  was  six  feet  two  tall,  and  if  he 
had  not  been  of  an  orderly  nature,  there  would 
not  have  been  room  in  that  back  closet,  with  its 
one  window  and  flat-topped  desk,  for  his  feet  and 
the  retriever,  Snip — the  only  dog  Field  ever  thor 
oughly  detested.  Ballantyne's  room  was  evidently 
arranged  to  prevent  any  private  conferences  with 
the  managing  editor.  It  boasted  a  second  chair, 
but  when  the  visitor  accepted  the  rare  invitation 
to  be  seated,  his  knees  prevented  the  closing  of 
the  door.  The  remainder  of  this  floor  of  the 
centre  building  and  the  whole  of  the  same  floor 
of  the  next  building  south  were  taken  up  by  the 
composing  room.  A  door  had  been  cut  in  the  wall 
of  the  building  to  the  north,  just  by  Mr.  Ballan- 
tyne's  room,  through  which,  and  down  three  steps, 
was  the  space  devoted  to  the  editorial  and  repor- 
torial  staff  of  the  Morning  News.  The  front  end 


216  EUGENE    FIELD 

of  this  space  was  partitioned  off  into  three  rooms, 
7  x  12  feet  each.  Field  claimed  one  of  these 
boxes,  the  dramatic  critic  and  solitary  artist  of 
the  establishment  one,  and  Morgan  Bates,  the  ex 
change  editor,  and  I  were  sandwiched  in  between 
them.  The  rest  of  the  floor  was  given  up  to  the 
city  staff.  The  telegraph  editor  had  a  space  railed 
off  for  his  accommodation  in  the  composing  room. 
If  a  fire  had  broken  out  in  the  central  building  in 
those  days,  along  about  ten  P.M.,  the  subsequent 
proceedings  of  Eugene  Field  and  of  others  then 
employed  on  the  Morning  News  would  probably 
not  have  been  of  further  interest,  except  to  the 
coroner. 

Of  the  three  rooms  mentioned,  Field's  was  the 
only  one  having  any  pretensions  to  decoration. 
Its  floor  and  portions  of  the  wall  were  stained  and 
grained  a  rich  brown  with  the  juice  of  the  tobacco 
plant.  In  one  corner  Field  had  a  cupboard-shaped 
pigeon-file,  alphabetically  arranged,  for  the  clip 
pings  he  daily  made — almost  all  relating  some  bit 
of  personal  gossip  about  people  in  the  public  eye. 
Scattered  about  the  floor  were  dumb-bells,  Indian 
clubs,  and  other  gymnastic  apparatus  which  Field 
never  touched  and  which  the  janitor  had  orders 
not  to  disturb  in  their  disorder.  Above  Field's 
desk  for  some  time  hung  a  sheet  of  tin,  which  he 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS        217 

used  as  a  call  bell  or  to  drown  the  noise  of  the 
office  boy  poking  the  big  globe  stove  which  was 
the  primitive,  but  generally  effective,  way  of  heat 
ing  the  whole  floor  in  winter.  That  it  was  not 
always  effective,  even  after  steam  was  introduced, 
may  be  inferred  from  the  following  importunate 
note  written  by  Field  to  Collins  Shackelford,  the 
cashier,  on  one  occasion  when  the  former  had  been 
frozen  almost  numb: 

DEAR  MR.  SHACKELFORD  :  There  has  been  no 
steam  in  the  third-floor  editorial  rooms  this  after 
noon.  Somebody  must  be  responsible  for  this  brutal 
neglect,  which  is  of  so  frequent  occurrence  that  for 
bearance  has  ceased  to  be  a  virtue.  I  appeal  to  you 
in  the  hope  that  you  will  be  able  to  correct  the  out 
rage.  Does  it  not  seem  an  injustice  that  the  writers 
of  this  paper  should  be  put  at  the  mercy  of  sub-cellar 
hands,  who  are  continually  demonstrating  their  in- 
competency  for  the  work  which  they  are  supposed  to 
do  and  for  which  they  are  paid  ? 

Yours  truly, 

January  11,  1887.  EUGENE  FIELD. 

To  those  familiar  with  the  internal  economy  of 
newspaper  offices  it  will  be  no  news  to  learn  that 
death  by  freezing  in  the  editorial  rooms  would 
be  regarded  as  a  matter  of  small  moment  com 
pared  to  a  temperature  in  the  press  room  that 


218  EUGENE    FIELD 

chilled  the  printing  ink  in  the  fountains  to  the 
slow  consistency  of  molasses  in  January. 

To  return  to  the  furnishing  of  the  room  in  which 
Field  did  the  greater  part  of  his  work  for  the 
Morning  News.  Originally  it  did  not  boast  a 
desk.  A  pine  table  with  two  drawers  was  con 
sidered  good  enough  for  the  most  brilliant  para- 
grapher  in  the  United  States,  and,  for  all  he  cared, 
so  it  was.  He  had  no  special  use  for  a  desk,  for 
at  that  time  he  carried  his  library  in  his  head  and 
wrote  on  his  lap.  I  am  happy  in  being  able  to 
present  in  corroboration  of  this  a  study  of  Eugene 
Field  at  work,  drawn  from  life  by  his  friend,  J.  L. 
Sclanders,  then  artist  for  the  News,  and  also  the 
copy  of  a  blue  print  photograph,  on  the  back  of 
which  Field  wrote,  "  And  they  call  this  art!  " 

In  explanation  of  these  pictures,  both  true  to 
life  when  made,  it  should  be  said  that,  except 
when  there  was  no  steam  on,  Field  almost  invari 
ably  wrote  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  generally  with  his 
waistcoat  unbuttoned  and  his  collar  off,  and  always 
with  his  feet  crossed  across  the  corner  of  the  desk 
or  table.  One  of  the  first  things  he  did  on  coming 
to  the  office  was  to  take  off  his  shoes  and  put  on  a 
pair  of  slippers  with  no  counters  around  the  heels, 
so  that  they  slapped  along  the  floor  as  he  walked 
and  hung  from  his  toes  as  he  wrote. 


i. 


I 


FIELD  AT   WORK. 
The  Caricature  from  a  Drawing  by  Sclanders. 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS        219 

Why  Field  always  rolled  up  the  bottoms  of  his 
trousers  on  coming  into  the  office  and  turned  them 
down  when  he  went  out,  I  do  not  remember  to 
have  known.  Probably  it  was  partly  on  account 
of  his  contradictory  nature  and  partly  to  save  the 
trousers  from  dragging,  for  the  unloosening  of  his 
"  vest  "  was  always  attended  by  the  unbuttoning  of 
his  suspenders  to  permit  of  his  sitting  with  greater 
ease  upon  the  curve  of  his  spine.  But  why  he 
should  have  rolled  his  trousers  half  way  up  to  the 
knee  passes  my  comprehension,  as  the  reason  has 
passed  from  my  memory,  if  I  ever  knew  it. 

For  a  long  time  a  rusty  old  carpenter's  saw  hung 
on  the  wall  of  his  "  boudoir."  Beside  it  were  some 
burglars'  implements,  and  subsequently  a  convict's 
suit  hanging  to  a  peg  excited  the  wonder  of  the 
curious  and  the  sarcasm  of  the  ribald. 

The  table  in  Field's  room,  besides  serving  as  a 
resting  place  for  his  feet,  was  covered  with  the  ex 
changes  which  were  passed  along  to  him  after  they 
had  passed  under  the  scrutiny  and  shears  of  the 
exchange  editor.  When  Field  had  gone  through 
them  with  his  rusty  scissors  they  were  only  fit  for 
the  floor,  where  he  strewed  them  with  a  riotous 
hand. 

If  the  reader  has  followed  thus  far  he  has  a 
tolerably  fair  notion  of  the  unpropitious  and  ec- 


220  EUGENE    FIELD 

centric  surroundings  amid  which  Field  worked 
immediately  after  coming  to  Chicago.  Out  of  this 
strange  environment  came  as  variegated  a  column 
of  satire,  wit,  and  personal  persiflage  as  ever  at 
tracted  and  fascinated  the  readers  of  a  daily  news 
paper. 

And  now  of  the  man  himself  as  I  first  saw  him. 
He  was  at  that  time  in  his  thirty-third  year,  my 
junior  by  a  year.  If  Eugene  Field  had  ever  stood 
up  to  his  full  height  he  would  have  measured 
slightly  over  six  feet.  But  he  never  did  and  was 
content  to  shamble  through  life,  appearing  two 
inches  shorter  than  he  really  was.  Shamble  is  per 
haps  hardly  the  word  to  use.  But  neither  glide  nor 
shuffle  fits  his  gait  any  more  accurately.  It  was 
simply  a  walk  with  the  least  possible  waste  of 
energy.  It  fitted  Dr.  Holmes's  definition  of  walk 
ing  as  forward  motion  to  prevent  falling.  And 
yet  Field  never  gave  you  the  impression  that  he 
was  about  to  topple  over.  His  legs  always  acted 
as  if  they  were  weary  and  would  like  to  lean  their 
master  up  against  something.  As  to  what  that 
something  might  be,  he  would  probably  have  an 
swered,  "  Pie." 

Field's  arms  were  long,  ending  in  well-shaped 
hands,  which  were  remarkably  deft  and  would 
have  been  attractive  had  he  not  at  some  time 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS       221 

spoiled  the  fingers  by  the  nail-biting  habit.  His 
shoulders  were  broad  and  square,  and  not  nearly 
as  much  rounded  as  might  have  been  expected 
from  his  position  in  writing.  It  was  not  the  stoop 
of  his  shoulders  that  detracted  from  his  height,  but 
a  certain  settling  together,  if  I  may  so  say,  of  the 
couplings  of  his  backbone.  He  was  large-boned 
throughout,  but  without  the  muscles  that  should 
have  gone  with  such  a  frame.  He  would  probably 
have  described  himself  as  tall,  big,  gangling.  He 
had  no  personal  taste  or  pride  in  clothing,  and 
never  to  my  knowledge  came  across  a  tailor  who 
took  enough  interest  in  his  clothes  to  give  him  the 
benefit  of  a  good  fit  or  to  persuade  him  to  choose 
a  becoming  color.  For  this  reason  he  looked  best- 
dressed  in  a  dress  suit,  which  he  never  wore  when 
there  was  any  possibility  of  avoiding  it.  His 
favorite  coat  was  a  sack,  cut  straight,  and  made 
from  some  cloth  in  which  the  various  shades  of 
yellow,  green,  and  brown  struggled  for  mastery. 

But  it  was  of  little  consequence  how  Field's  body 
was  clothed.  He  wore  a  7  3-8  hat  and  there  was 
a  head  and  face  under  it  that  compelled  a  second 
glance  and  repaid  scrutiny  in  any  company.  The 
photographs  of  Field  are  numerous,  and  some  of 
them  preserve  a  fair  impression  of  his  remarkable 
physiognomy.  None  of  the  paintings  of  him  that 


222  EUGENE   FIELD 

I  have  seen  do  him  justice,  and  the  etchings  are  not 
much  of  an  improvement  on  the  paintings.  The 
best  photographs  only  fail  because  they  cannot  re 
tain  the  peculiar  deathlike  pallor  of  the  skin  and 
the  clear,  innocent  china  blue  of  the  large  eyes. 
These  eyes  were  deep  set  under  two  arching  brows, 
and  yet  were  so  large  that  their  deep  setting  was 
not  at  first  apparent.  Field's  nose  was  a  good  size 
and  well  shaped,  with  an  unusual  curve  of  the 
nostrils  strangely  complementary  to  the  curve  of 
the  arch  above  the  eyes.  There  was  a  mole  on 
one  cheek,  which  Field  always  insisted  on  turning 
to  the  camera  and  which  the  photographer  very 
generally  insisted  on  retouching  out  in  the  finish 
ing.  Field  was  wont  to  say  that  no  photograph 
of  him  was  genuine  unless  that  mole  was  "  blown 
in  on  the  negative."  The  photographs  all  give  him 
a  good  chin,  in  which  there  was  merely  the  sug 
gestion  of  that  cleft  which  he  held  marred  the 
strength  of  George  William  Curtis's  lower  jaw. 

The  feature  of  his  face,  if  such  it  can  be  called, 
where  all  portraits  failed,  was  the  hair.  It  was  so 
fine  that  there  would  not  have  been  much  of  it 
had  it  been  thick,  and  as  it  was  quite  thin  there 
was  only  a  shadow  between  it  and  baldness.  Even 
its  color  was  elusive — a  cross  between  brown  and 
dove  color.  Only  those  who  knew  Field  before 


PERSONAL   CHARACTERISTICS        223 

he  came  to  Chicago  have  any  impression  as  to  the 
color  of  the  thatch  upon  that  head  which  never 
during  our  acquaintance  stooped  to  a  slouch  hat. 
This  typical  head  gear  of  the  West  had  no  attrac 
tion  for  him.  The  formal  black  or  brown  derby 
for  winter  and  the  seasonable  straw  hat  for  sum 
mer  seemed  necessary  to  tone  down  the  frivolity 
of  his  neckties,  which  were  chosen  with  a  cow 
boy's  gaudy  taste.  To  the  day  of  his  death  Field 
delighted  to  present  neckties,  generally  of  the 
made-up  variety,  to  his  friends,  which,  it  is  need 
less  to  say,  they  never  failed  to  accept  and  seldom 
wore.  Often  in  the  afternoon  as  it  neared  two 
o'clock  he  would  stick  his  head  above  the  parti 
tion  between  our  rooms  and  say,  "  Come  along, 
Nompy "  (his  familiar  address  for  the  writer). 
"  Come  along  and  I'll  buy  you  a  new  necktie." 

"  The  dickens  take  your  neckties!  "  or  some 
thing  like  it,  would  be  my  reply. 

Whereupon,  with  the  philosophy  of  which  he 
never  wearied,  Field  would  rejoin,  "  Very  well,  if 
you  won't  let  me  buy  you  a  necktie,  you  must  buy 
me  a  lunch,"  and  off  we  would  march  to  Henrici's 
coffee-house  around  the  corner  on  Madison  Street, 
generally  gathering  Ballantyne  and  Snip  in  our 
train  as  we  passed  the  kennel  of  the  managing 
editor  of  what  was  to  be  the  newspaper  with  the 
largest  morning  circulation  in  Chicago. 


CHAPTER   XIII 
RELATIONS  WITH   STAGE    FOLK 

Reference  has  been  made  to  Field's  predilection 
for  the  theatrical  profession  and  to  his  fondness  for 
the  companionship  of  those  who  had  attained  promi 
nence  in  it.  During  his  stay  in  Denver  he  had 
established  friendly,  and  in  some  instances  inti 
mate,  relations  with  the  star  actors  who  included 
that  city  in  the  circuit  of  their  yearly  pilgrimages. 
The  story  of  how  he  ingratiated  himself  into  the 
good  graces  of  Christine  Nilsson,  at  the  expense  of 
a  rival  newspaper,  may  be  of  interest  before  tak 
ing  a  final  farewell  of  the  episodes  connected  with 
his  life  in  Colorado.  When  Madame  Nilsson  was 
journeying  overland  in  her  special  drawing-room 
car  with  Henry  Abbey,  Marcus  Meyer,  and  Charles 
Mathews,  Field  wrote  to  Omaha,  anticipating  their 
arrival  there,  to  make  inquiry  as  to  how  the  party 
employed  the  dull  hours  of  travel  so  as  to  interest 
the  erratic  prima  donna.  It  was  his  intention  to 
prepare  a  newspaper  sketch  of  the  trip. 

The  reply  was  barren  of  incident,  save  a  casual 
allusion  to  certain  sittings  at  the  American  game 
224 


RELATIONS  WITH   STAGE   FOLK     225 

of  poker,  in  which  the  Swedish  songstress  had  the 
advantage  of  the  policy  or  the  luck  of  her  com 
panions.  Out  of  this  inch  of  cloth  Field  manu 
factured  something  better  than  the  proverbial  ell 
of  very  interesting  gossip.  The  reconstructed  item 
reached  San  Francisco  as  soon  as  Madame  Nilsson, 
and  was  copied  from  the  Tribune  into  the  coast 
papers  on  the  eve  of  her  opening  concert.  Now, 
the  madame  thought  that  the  American  world 
looked  askance  at  a  woman  who  gambled,  and 
when  the  article  was  kindly  brought  to  her  atten 
tion  she  flew  into  one  of  those  rages  which,  report 
has  said,  were  the  real  tragedies  of  her  life.  When 
returning  overland  to  Denver,  Abbey  telegraphed 
ahead  to  Field,  and  he,  with  Cowen,  went  up  to 
Cheyenne  to  meet  the  party.  On  entering  the 
drawing-room  car  the  visitors  were  hurried  into 
Abbey's  compartment  with  an  air  of  bewildering 
mystery,  and  were  there  informed  in  whispers  that 
Madame  Nilsson  was  furious  against  the  Tribune 
and  would  never  forgive  anybody  attached  to  it. 

"Oh,  I'll  arrange  that,"  said  Field.  "Don't 
announce  us,  but  let  us  call  on  the  madame  and  be 
introduced." 

After  some  further  parley  this  was  done,  and  this 
is  how  he  was  greeted. 

"  Meestair  Field — zee — T-r-ee-bune,"  Madame 
VOL.  I.— 15 


226  EUGENE   FIELD 

Nilsson  exclaimed  hotly.  "  I  prefair  not  zee  ac 
quaintance  of  your  joor-nal." 

"  Excuse  me,  madam,"  persisted  Field,  blandly 
and  with  grave  earnestness,  "  I  think  from  what 
Mr.  Abbey  has  told  us  that  you  are  bent  on  doing 
the  Tribune  and  its  staff  a  great  injustice.  It  was 
not  the  Tribune  that  published  the  poker  story  that 
caused  you  so  much  just  annoyance.  It  was  our 
rival,  the  Republican,  a  very  disreputable  news 
paper,  which  is  edited  by  persons  without  the  least 
instinct  of  gentlemen  and  with  no  consideration  for 
the  feelings  of  a  lady  of  your  refined  sensibilities. " 

At  this  Madame  Nilsson  thawed  visibly,  and 
promptly  appealed  to  Abbey,  Mathcws,  and  Mayer 
to  learn  if  she  had  been  misinformed.  They,  of 
course,  fell  in  with  Field's  story,  and  upon  being 
assured  that  she  was  in  error  the  madame's  anger 
relaxed,  and  she  was  soon  holding  her  sides  from 
laughter  at  Field's  drolleries.  The  result  was  that 
the  innocent  Republican  staff  could  not  get  within 
speaking  distance  of  Madame  Mlsson  during  her 
stay  in  Denver.  The  second  night  of  her  visit 
being  Christmas  eve,  the  madame  held  her  Christ 
mas  tree  in  the  "Windsor  Hotel,  with  Field  acting 
the  role  of  Santa  Claus  and  the  Tribune  staff  play 
ing  the  parts  of  good  little  boys,  while  their  envious 
rivals  of  the  Republican  were  not  invited  to  share 


RELATIONS  WITH  STAGE  FOLK     227 

in  the  crumbs  that  fell  from  that  Christmas  supper- 
table. 

"  I  have  been  a  great  theatre-goer,"  says  Field 
in  his  "  Auto- Analysis."  And  it  may  be  doubted 
if  any  writer  of  our  time  repaid  the  stage  as  gen 
erously  for  the  pleasure  he  received  from  those  who 
walked  its  boards  before  and  behind  the  footlights. 
No  better  analysis  of  his  relations  to  the  profession 
has  been  made  than  that  from  the  pen  of  his  friend 
Cowen : 

"  At  the  very  outset  of  his  newspaper  career," 
says  he,  "  Field's  inclinations  led  him  to  the  society 
of  the  green-room.  Of  western  critics  and  review 
ers  he  was  the  first  favorite  among  dramatic  people. 
Helpful,  kind,  and  enthusiastic,  he  was  rarely  se 
vere  and  never  captious.  Though  in  no  sense  an 
analyst,  he  was  an  amusing  reviewer  and  a  great 
advertiser.  Once  he  conceived  an  attachment  for 
an  actor  or  actress,  his  generous  mind  set  about 
bringing  such  fortunate  person  more  conspicuously 
into  public  notice.  Emma  Abbott's  baby,  which 
she  never  had,  and  of  whose  invented  existence  he 
wrote  at  least  a  bookful  of  startling  and  funny  ad 
ventures;  Francis  Wilson's  legs;  Sol  Smith  Kus- 
sell's  Yankee  yarns;  Billy  Crane's  droll  stories; 
Modjeska's  spicy  witticisms — these  and  other  jocu 
lar  pufferies,  quoted  and  read  everywhere  with  rel- 


228  EUGENE    FIELD 

ish  for  years — were  among  his  hobby-horse  per 
formances  begun  at  that  time  (1881)  and  continued 
long  after  he  had  settled  down  in  the  must  and  rust 
of  bibliomania." 

For  a  long  time  not  a  week  went  by  that  Field 
did  not  invent  some  marvellous  tale  respecting 
Emma  Abbott,  once  the  most  popular  light-opera 
prima  donna  of  the  American  stage — every  yarn 
calculated  to  widen  the  circle  of  her  popularity. 
Upon  an  absolutely  fictitious  autobiography  of  Miss 
Abbott  he  once  exhausted  the  fertility  of  his  fancy 
in  the  form  of  a  review,*  which  went  the  rounds 
of  the  press  and  which,  on  her  death,  contributed 
many  a  sober  paragraph  to  the  newspaper  reviews 
of  her  life. 

To  the  fame  of  another  opera  singer  of  those 
clays  he  contributed,  by  paragraphs  of  an  entirely 
different  flavor  from  those  that  extolled  the  Puri 
tan  virtues  and  domestic  felicities  of  Miss  Abbott 
(Mrs.  Wetherell),  as  may  be  judged  from  the  fol 
lowing  "Love  Plaint,"  written  shortly  after  hi; 
came  to  Chicago: 

The  tiny  birdlings  in  the  tree 

Their  tuneful  tales  of  love  relate — 

Alas,  no  lover  comes  to  me — 
/  flock  alone,  without  a  mate. 

*  Vide  Appendix. 


FRANCIS  WILSON. 


RELATIONS  WITH   STAGE   FOLK      229 

Mine  eyes  are  hot  with  bitter  tears, 

My  soul  disconsolately  yearns — 
But,  ah,  no  wooing  knight  appears — 

In  vain  my  quenchless  passion  burns. 

Unheeded  are  my  glowing  charms — 
No  heroes  claim  a  moonlight  tryst — 

All  empty  are  my  hungry  arms — 
My  virgin  cheeks  are  all  unkissed. 

Oh,  would  some  cavalier  might  haste 
To  crown  me  with  his  manly  love, 

And,  with  his  arm  about  my  waist, 
Feed  on  my  cherry  lips  above. 

Alas,  my  blush  and  bloom  will  fade, 
And  I  shall  lose  my  dulcet  notes — 

Then  I  shall  die  an  old,  old  maid, 

And  none  will  mourn  Miss  Alice  Gates. 

Of  his  friendship  with  Francis  Wilson  there  is 
no  need  to  write  here,  for  is  it  not  fully  set  forth 
in  that  charming  little  brochure,  in  which  Mr.  Wil 
son  gives  to  the  world  a  characteristic  sketch  of 
the  Eugene  Field  and  bibliomaniac  he  knew,  and 
in  whose  work  he  was  so  deeply  interested?  But 
Mr.  Wilson  does  not  tell  how  he  was  pursued  and 
plagued  with  the  following  genial  invention  which 
Field  printed  in  his  column  in  1884,  and  which 
still  occasionally  turns  up  in  country  exchanges: 

"  Mr.  Francis  Wilson,  the  comedian,  is  a  nephew 


230  EUGENE   FIELD 

of  Pere  Hyacinthe,  the  ancient  divine.  During  his 
recent  sojourn  in  Paris  he  was  the  pere's  guest,  and 
finally  became  deeply  interested  in  the  great  work 
of  reform  in  which  the  famous  preacher  is  engaged. 
His  intimate  acquaintances  say  that  Mr.  Wilson  is 
fully  determined  to  retire  from  the  stage  at  the 
expiration  of  five  years  and  devote  himself  to 
theological  pursuits.  He  gave  Pere  Hyacinthe 
his  promise  to  this  effect,  and  his  sincerity  is  un 
doubted." 

"William  Florence,  the  comedian,  was  an  actor  of 
whom,  on  and  off  the  stage,  Field  never  wearied. 
Night  after  night  would  we  go  to  see  "  Billy,"  as 
he  was  familiarly  and  irreverently  called,  as  Bard- 
well  Slote  in  the  "  Mighty  Dollar,"  or  as  Captain 
Cuttle  in  "  Dombey  and  Son."  Although  originally 
an  Irish  comedian  of  rollicking  and  contagious 
humor,  Florence  had  played  "  Bar  dwell  Slote  "  so 
constantly  and  for  so  many  years  that  his  voice  and 
manner  in  every-day  life  had  the  ingratiating  tone 
of  that  typical  Washington  lobbyist.  Before  his 
death,  while  touring  with  Jefferson  as  Sir  Lucius 
0' Trigger  in  "  The  Rivals,"  he  renewed  his  earlier 
triumphs  in  Irish  character,  but,  even  here  the 
accents  of  the  oily  Bardwell  gave  an  additional 
touch  of  blarney  to  his  brogue. 

One  of  the  stories  that  Field  delighted  to  tell  of 


RELATIONS  WITH  STAGE  FOLK     231 

Florence  dates  back  to  1884,  when  Monseigneur 
Capel  was  in  the  United  States.  It  related  with  the 
circumspection  of  verity  how  Florence  and  the  Mon 
seigneur  had  been  friends  for  a  number  of  years. 
Meeting  on  the  street  in  Chicago,  the  story  ran, 
after  a  general  conversation  Florence  asked  Capel 
whether  he  ever  spent  an  evening  at  the  theatre, 
intending,  in  case  of  an  affirmative  reply,  to  invite 
him  to  one  of  his  performances.  Capel  shook  his 
head.  "  No,"  said  he,  "  it  has  been  twenty-four 
years  since  I  attended  a  theatre,  and  I  cannot  con 
scientiously  bring  myself  to  patronize  a  place  where 
the  devil  is  preached."  Florence  protested  that 
the  monseigneur  placed  a  false  estimate  on  the  the 
atrical  profession. 

"  Ah,  no,"  replied  Capel,  with  a  sad  smile;  "  you 
people  are  sincere  enough;  you  don't  know  it,  but 
you  preach  the  devil  all  the  same." 

"  Well,  your  grace,"  inquired  Florence,  with 
great  urbanity,  "  which  is  worse,  preaching  the 
devil  from  the  stage  without  knowing  it,  or  preach 
ing  Christ  crucified  from  the  pulpit  without  believ 
ing  it?" 

"  Both  are  reprehensible,"  replied  Monseigneur 
Capel;  and,  bowing  stiffly,  he  went  his  way,  while 
Florence  shrugged  his  shoulders  a  la  his  own  fas 
cinating  creation  of  Jules  Obenreizer  in  "  No  Thor- 


232  EUGENE    FIELD 

oughfare,"  and  walked  off  in  the  opposite  direction, 
whistling  to  himself  as  he  walked. 

Florence  delighted  in  companionship  and  in  the 
good  things  and  good  stories  of  the  table,  whether 
at  a  noon  breakfast  which  lasted  well  through  the 
afternoon  or  at  the  midnight  supper  which  knew 
no  hour  for  breaking  up,  and  he  never  came  to 
Chicago  that  we  did  not  accommodate  our  con 
venience  to  his  late  hours  for  breakfast  or  supper. 
Nothing  short  of  a  concealed  stenographer  could 
have  done  these  gatherings  justice.  Mr.  Stone 
footed  the  bills,  and  Field,  Florence,  Edward  J. 
McPhelim  of  the  Chicago  Tribune,  poet  and  dra 
matic  critic,  and  three  or  four  others  of  the  Daily 
News  staff  did  the  rest.  The  eating  was  good, 
although  the  dishes  were  sometimes  weird,  the 
company  was  better,  the  stories,  anecdotes,  remi 
niscences,  songs,  and  flow  of  soul  beyond  compare. 
Field,  who  ate  sparingly  and  touched  liquor  not  at 
all,  unless  it  was  to  pass  a  connoisseurs  judgment 
upon  some  novel,  strange,  and  rare  brand,  divided 
the  honors  of  the  hour  with  the  entire  company. 

In  acknowledgment  of  such  attentions,  Florence 
always  insisted  that  before  the  close  of  his  engage 
ments  we  should  all  be  his  guests  at  a  regular 
Italian  luncheon  of  spaghetti  at  Caproni's,  down  on 
AVabash  Avenue.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  the 


EELATIONS  WITH  STAGE   FOLK     233 

spaghetti  was  merely  the  central  dish,  around  which 
revolved  and  was  devoured  every  delicacy  that 
Florence  had  ever  heard  of  in  his  Italian  itinerary, 
the  whole  washed  down  with  strange  wines  from 
the  same  sunny  land.  Florence's  fondness  for  this 
sort  of  thing  gave  zest  to  a  story  Field  told  of  his 
friend's  experience  in  London,  in  the  summer  of 
1890.  The  epicurean  actor  had  made  an  excursion 
up  the  Thames  with  a  select  party  of  English  club 
men.  Two  days  later  Florence  was  still  abed  at 
Morley's,  and,  as  he  said,  contemplated  staying 
there  forever.  Sir  Morell  Mackenzie  was  called 
to  see  him.  After  sounding  his  lungs,  listening  to 
his  heart,  thumping  his  chest  and  back,  looking  at 
his  tongue,  and  testing  his  breath  with  medicated 
paper,  Sir  Morell  said: 

"  As  near  as  I  can  get  at  it,  you  are  a  victim 
of  misplaced  confidence.  You  have  been  training 
with  the  young  bucks  when  you  should  have  been 
ploughing  around  with  the  old  stags.  You  must 
quit  it.  Otherwise  it  will  do  you  up." 

"  Well  now,"  said  Florence,  as  related  by  Field, 
"  that  was  the  saddest  day  of  my  life.  Just  think 
of  shutting  down  on  the  boys,  after  being  one 
of  them  for  sixty  years!  But  Sir  Morell  told 
the  truth.  The  Garrick  Club  boys  were  terribly 
mad  about  it;  they  said  Sir  Morell  was  a  quack, 


234  EUGENE    FIELD 

and  they  adopted  resolutions  declaring  a  lack  of 
confidence  in  his  medical  skill.  But  my  mind  was 
made  up.  '  Billy/  says  I  to  myself,  '  you  must 
let  up,  you've  made  a  record;  it's  a  long  one  and 
an  honorable  one.  Now  you  must  retire.  Your 
life  henceforth  shall  be  reminiscent  and  its  declin 
ing  years  shall  be  hallowed  by  the  refulgent  rays 
of  retrospection.'  To  that  resolution  I  have  ad 
hered  steadily.  People  tell  me  that  I  am  as 
young  as  ever;  but  no,  they  can't  fool  me,  I  know 
better." 

Whereupon,  according  to  Field,  "  Joe  "  Jeffer 
son  broke  in  incredulously:  "  Just  to  illustrate  the 
folly  of  all  that  talk,  I'll  tell  you  what  I  saw  last 
night.  When  I  returned  to  the  hotel,  after  the 
play,  I  went  up  to  Billy's  room  and  found  Billy 
and  the  President  of  the  Philadelphia  Catnip  Club 
at  supper.  What  do  you  suppose  they  had  ?  Stewed 
terrapin  and  f rapped  champagne!  " 

"  That's  all  right  enough,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Flor 
ence.  "  Terrapin  and  champagne  never  hurt  any 
body;  I  have  had  'em  all  my  life.  What  I 
maintain  is  that  people  of  my  age  should  not  and 
cannot  indulge  in  extravagance  of  diet.  The  ut 
most  simplicity  must  be  the  rule  of  their  life.  If 
Joe  would  only  eat  terrapin  and  drink  champagne 
he  wouldn't  be  grunting  around  with  dyspepsia  all 


WILLIAM  J.  FLORENCE. 


RELATIONS  WITH  STAGE   FOLK     235 

the  time.  He  lives  on  boiled  mutton  and  graham 
bread,  and  the  public  call  him  i  the  reverend  vet 
eran  Joseph  Jefferson.'  I  stick  to  terrapin,  green 
turtle,  canvasbacks,  and  the  like,  and  every  young 
chap  in  the  land  slaps  me  on  the  back,  calls  me 
Billy,  and  regards  me  as  a  contemporary.  But  I 
ain't;  I'm  getting  old — not  too  old,  but  just  old 
enough! " 

A  dozen  years  with  the  boys  had  done  for  Field's 
digestion  what  the  robust  Florence  was  dreading 
after  sixty,  and  to  the  day  of  his  death,  Field,  from 
the  rigid  practice  of  his  self-denial,  pitied  and  sym 
pathized  with  the  unhappy  wight  who  had  received 
the  warning  given  to  Florence,  "  You  must  quit 
training  with  the  boys,  otherwise  it  will  do  you 
up."  But  he  had  no  more  obeyed  the  warning  as 
to  coffee  and  pie  than  Florence  did  as  to  the  in 
junction  of  Sir  Morell  against  terrapin  and  cham 
pagne. 

Another  "  Billy,"  William  H.  Crane,  was  one 
of  Field's  favorites,  and  the  one  with  whose  name 
he  took  the  greatest  liberties  in  his  column  of 
"  Sharps  and  Flats."  His  waggish  mind  found  no 
end  of  humor  in  creating  a  son  for  Mr.  Crane,  who 
was  christened  after  his  father's  stage  partner, 
Stuart  Robson  Crane.  This  child  of  Field's  sar 
donic  fancy  was  gifted  with  all  the  roguish  attri- 


236  EUGENE    FIELD 

butes  that  are  the  delight  and  despair  of  fond 
parents.  Scarcely  a  month,  sometimes  hardly  a 
week,  went  by  that  Field  did  not  print  some  yarn 
about  the  sayings  or  doings  of  the  obstreperous 
Stuart  Kobson  Crane.  Every  anecdote  that  he 


COMMODORE  CRANE. 

From  a  drawing  by  Eugene  Field. 

heard  he  adapted  to  the  years  and  supposed  circum 
stances  of  "  Master  Crane."  The  close  relations 
which  existed  between  Field  and  the  Cranes — for 
he  included  Mrs.  Crane  within  the  inner  circle  of 
his  good-fellowship — may  be  judged  from  the  fol 
lowing  tribute: 


RELATIONS  WITH   STAGE   FOLK      237 

MRS.  BILLY  CRANE 

A  woman  is  a  blessing,  be  she  large  or  be  she  small, 
Be  she  wee  as  any  midget,  or  as  any  cypress  tall: 
And  though  I'm  free  to  say  I  like  all  women  folks 

the  best, 

I  think  I  like  the  little  women  better  than  the  rest — 
And  of  all  the  little  women  I'm  in  love  with  I  am  fain 
To  sing  the  praises  of  the  peerless  Mrs.  Billy  Crane. 

I  met  this  charming  lady — never  mind  how   long 

ago— 

In  that  prehistoric  period  I  was  reckoned  quite  a  beau: 
You'd  never  think  it  of  me  if  you  chanced  to  see  m,e 

now, 
With   my   shrunken   shanks   and   dreary   eyes   and 

deeply  furrowed  brow; 
But  I  was  young  and  chipper  when  I  joined  that  brisk 

campaign 
At  Utica  to  storm  the  heart  of  Mrs.  Billy  Crane. 

We  called  her  Ella  in  those  days,  as  trim  a  little  minx 
As  ever  fascinated  man  with  coquetries,  methinks! 
I  saw  her  home  from  singing-school  a  million  times 

I  guess, 
And  purred  around  her  domicile  three  winters,  more 

or  less, 
And  brought  her  lozenges  and  things — alas:  'tivas  all 

in  vain — 
She  was  predestined  to  become  a  Mrs.  Billy  Crane! 


238  EUGENE    FIELD 

That  Mr.  Billy  came  in  smart  and  handsome,  I'll  aver, 
'Yet,  with  all  his  brains  and  beauty,  he's  not  good 

enough  for  her: 
Now,  though  I'm  somewhat  homely  and  in  gumption 

quite  a  dolt, 

The  quality  of  goodness  is  my  lest  and  strongest  holt, 
And  as  goodness  is  the  only  human  thing  that  doesn't 

Wane, 
I  wonder  she  preferred  to  wed  with  Mr.  Billy  Crane. 

Yet  heaven  has  blessed  her  all  these  years — she's  just 

as  blithe  and  gay 
As  when  the  belle  of  Utica,  and  she  ain't  grown  old 

a  day! 
Her  face  is  just  as  pretty  and  her  eyes  as  bright  as 

then — 
Egad!    their  gracious  magic  makes  me  feel  a  boy 

again, 
And  still  I  court  (as  still  I  were  a  callow,  York  State 

swain) 
With  hecatombs  of  lozenges  that  Mrs.  Billy  Crane! 

That  she  has  heaps  of  faculty  her  husband  can't 

deny — 
Whenever  he  don't  toe  the  mark  she  knows  the  reason 

why : 
She  handles  all  the  moneys  and  receipts,  which  as  a 

rule 
She  carries  around  upon  her  arm  in  a  famous  reticule, 


KELATIONS  WITH  STAGE   FOLK      239 

And  Billy  seldom  gets  a  cent  unless  he  can  explain 
The  wherefores  and  etceteras  to  Mrs.  Billy  Crane! 

Yet  0  ye  gracious  actors!  with  uppers  on  your  feet, 
And  0  ye  bankrupt  critics!  athirst  for  things  to  eat — 
Did  you  ever  leave  her  presence  all  unrequited  when 
In  an  hour  of  inspiration  you  struck  her  for  a  ten? 
No!  never  yet  an  applicant  there  was  did  not  obtain 
A  solace  for  his  misery  from  Mrs.  Billy  Crane. 

Dear  little  Lady-Ella!  (let  me  call  you  that  once 

more, 

In  memory  of  the  happy  days  in  Utica  of  yore) 
If  I  could  have  the  ordering  of  blessings  here  below, 
I  might  keep  some  small  share  myself,  but  most  of 

'em  should  go 
To  you — yes,  riches,  happiness,  and  health  should 

surely  rain 
Upon  the  temporal  estate  of  Mrs.  Billy  Crane! 

You're  coming  to  Chicago  in  a  week  or  two  and  then. 
In  honor  of  that  grand  event,  I  shall  blossom  out 

again 
In  a  brand-new  suit  of  checkered  tweed  and  a  low-cut 

satin  vest 
I  shall  be  the  gaudiest  spectacle  in  all  the  gorgeous 

West! 
And  with  a  splendid  coach  and  four  I'll  meet  you  at 

the  train — 
So  don't  forget  the  reticule,  dear  Mrs.  Billy  Crane! 


240  EUGENE    FIELD 

And  lie  may  doubt,  who  never  knew  this  master 
torment,  that  Field  carried  out  his  threat  to  ap 
pear  at  Crane's  "  first  night  "  with  that  low-cut 
satin  vest  and  that  speckled  tweed  suit,  which  did 
indeed  make  him  a  gaudy  spectacle.  But  his  sol 
emn  face  gave  no  sign  that  his  mixed  apparel  was 
making  him  the  cynosure  of  all  curious  eyes. 

Mr.  Crane  suffered  from  the  same  digestive 
troubles  that  confined  Florence  to  terrapin  and 
champagne  and  Field  to  coffee  and  pies,  and  so 
the  state  of  his  health  was  a  constant  source  of  para 
graphic  sympathy  in  "  Sharps  and  Flats."  In  such 
paragraphs  the  actor  and  President  Cleveland  were 
often  represented  as  fellow-fishermen  at  Buzzard's 
Bay — Crane's  summer  home  being  at  Cohasset. 
How  they  were  associated  is  illustrated  in  the  fol 
lowing  casual  item: 

Mr.  William  H.  Crane,  the  actor,  is  looking  unusu 
ally  robust  this  autumn.  He  seems  to  have  recovered 
entirely  from  the  malady  which  made  life  a  burden 
to  him  for  several  years.  He  thought  there  was  some 
thing  the  matter  with  his  liver.  Last  July  he  put  in 
a  good  share  of  his  time  blue-fishing  with  Grover 
Cleveland.  One  day  they  ran  out  of  bait. 

"  Wonder  if  they'd  bite  at  liver?  "  asked  Crane. 

"  They  love  it,"  answered  Cleveland. 

So  without  further  ado  Crane  out  with  his  pen- 


RELATIONS  WITH  STAGE  FOLK     241 

knife,  amputated  his  liver,  and  minced  it  up  for  bait. 
He  hasn't  had  a  sick  day  since. 

By  way  of  introduction  to  a  few  words  respect 
ing  the  close,  quizzical,  and  always  sincere  friend 
ship  that  existed  between  Field  and  Helena  Mod- 
jeska,  the  following  invention  of  March  29th,  1884, 
may  serve  to  indicate  the  blithesome  spirit  with 
which  he  tortured  facts  when  racketting  around  for 
something  to  add  to  the  bewilderment  of  his  readers 
and  his  own  relaxation: 

A  letter  from  Mr.  William  H.  Crane  imparts  some 
interesting  gossip  touching  the  Cincinnati  dramatic 
festival.  It  says  that  an  agreeable  surprise  awaits 
the  patrons  of  the  festival  in  an  interchange  of  parts 
between  Madame  Modjeska  and  Mr.  Stuart  Robson, 
the  comedian ;  that  is  to  say,  Modjeska  will  take  Mr. 
Robson's  place  in  the  "  Two  Dromios,"  and  Robson 
will  take  Madame  Modjeska's  place  in  the  great  emo 
tional  play  of  "  Camille."  It  is  well  known  that 
Modjeska  has  a  penchant  for  masculine  roles,  and  her 
success  as  Rosalind  and  Viola  leaves  no  room  for 
doubt  that  she  will  give  great  satisfaction  in  the 
"  Comedy  of  Errors."  Mr.  Robson  has  never  liked 
female  roles,  but  his  falsetto  voice,  his  slender  figure, 
his  smooth,  rosy  face,  and  his  graceful,  effeminate 
manners  qualify  him  to  a  remarkable  degree  for  the 
impersonation  of  feminine  characters.  Moreover, 
VOL.  I.— 16 


242  EUGENE    FIELD 

his  long  residence  in  Paris  has  given  him  a  thorough 
appreciation  and  elaborate  knowledge  of  those  char 
acteristics,  which  must  be  understood  ere  one  can  de 
lineate  and  portray  the  subtleties  of  Camille  as  they 
should  be  given.  Those  who  anticipate  a  farcical 
treatment  of  Dumas' s  creation  at  Mr.  Robson's  hands 
will  be  most  wofully  surprised  when  they  come  to 
witness  and  hear  his  artistic  presentation  of  the  most 
remarkable  of  emotional  roles. 

Elsewhere  I  have  referred  to  the  roguish  pleasure 
Field  took  in  ascribing  the  authorship  of  "  The 
Wanderer  "  to  Helena  Modjeska.  That  was  before 
he  came  to  Chicago,  and  seemed  to  be  the  overture 
to  a  friendship  that  continued  to  exchange  its  favors 
and  tokens  of  affection  to  the  close  of  his  life.  The 
doings  of  the  Madame  and  Count  Bozenta,  her  al 
ways  vivacious  and  enjoyable  husband,  were  peren 
nial  subjects  for  Field's  kindliest  paragraphs.  As 
he  says,  he  was  a  great  theatre-goer,  but  Field 
became  a  constant  one  when  "  Modjesky  "  came  to 
town.  Her  Camille  —  a  character  in  which  she 
was  not  excelled  by  the  great  Bernhardt  herself — 
had  a  remarkable  vogue  in  the  early  eighties.  She 
imparted  to  its  impersonation  the  subtle  charm  of 
her  own  sweet  womanliness,  which  served  to  excuse 
Armand's  infatuation  and  as  far  as  possible  lifted 
the  play  out  of  its  unwholesome  atmosphere  of 


MODJESKA. 


KELATIONS  WITH  STAGE   FOLK     243 

French  immorality  to  the  plane  of  romantic  devo 
tion  and  self-sacrifice.  Her  Camille  seemed  a  vic 
tim  of  remorseless  destiny,  a  pure  soul  struggling 
amid  inexorable  circumstances  that  racked  and  ca 
joled  a  diseased  and  suffering  body  into  the  mael 
strom  of  sin. 

Field  was  so  constituted  that,  without  this  saving 
grace  of  womanliness,  the  presentation  of  Camille, 
with  all  its  hectic  surroundings,  would  have  re 
pelled  him.  He  did  not  care  to  see  Mademoiselle 
Bernhardt  a  second  time  in  the  role,  and  he  fled 
from  the  powerful  and  fascinating  portrayal  of 
pulmonary  emotion  which  initiated  the  audiences  of 
Clara  Morris  into  the  terrors  of  tubercular  disease. 
Night  after  night,  when  Modjeska  played  Camille, 
Field  would  occupy  a  front  seat  or  a  box.  When 
so  seated  that  his  presence  could  not  be  overlooked 
from  the  stage,  he  was  wont  to  divert  Camille  from 
her  woes  with  the  by-play  of  his  mobile  features. 
Wherever  he  sat,  his  large,  white,  solemn  visage 
had  a  fascination  for  Madame  Modjeska,  and  from 
the  time  she  caught  sight  of  it  until  Camille  settled 
back  lifeless  in  the  final  scene,  she  played  "  at  him." 
He  repaid  this  tribute  by  distorting  his  face  in 
agony  when  Camille  was  light-hearted,  and  by 
breaking  into  noiseless  merriment  as  her  woes  were 
causing  handkerchiefs  to  flutter  throughout  the 


EUGENE   FIELD 


audience.  When  we  went  to  visit  her  next  day,  as 
we  often  did,  she  scarcely  ever  failed  to  reproach 
him  in  some  such  fashion  as:  "  Ah,  Meester  Fielt, 
why  will  you  seet  in  the  box  and  talk  with  your 


FIELD  WITNESSING  MODJESKA  AS  CAMILLE. 

From  a  drawing  by  Eugene  Field. 

overcoat  on  the  chair  to  make  Camille  laugh  who 
is  dying  on  the  stage?  Ah,  Meester  Fielt,  you  are 
a  very  bad  man,  but  I  lof  you,  don't  we,  Charlie?  " 
And  the  count  always  stopped  rolling  a  cigarette 
long  enough  to  acknowledge  that  Field  was  their 


RELATIONS   WITH   STAGE   FOLK      245 

dearest  friend  and  that  they  both  loved  him,  no 
matter  what  he  did.  Next  to  his  wife,  the  count 
was  devoted  to  politics,  which  he  discusses  with 
all  the  warmth  and  gesticulations  of  a  French 
man  and  the  intelligence  of  a  Polish-American 
patriot. 

If  there  were  any  other  visitors  present,  Mod- 
jeska  always  insisted  on  Field's  giving  his  imitation 
of  herself  in  Camille,  in  which  he  rendered  her 
lines  with  exaggerated  theatrical  sentiment  and 
with  the  broken-English  accent,  such  as  Modjeska 
permitted  herself  in  the  freedom  of  private  life. 
She  would  give  him  Armand's  cues  for  particular 
speeches  and  his  impassioned  "  Armo,  I  lof,  I  lof 
you!  "  never  failed  to  convulse  her,  while  his  pul 
monary  cough  was  so  deep  and  sepulchral  that  it 
rang  through  the  hotel  corridors,  making  other 
guests  think  that  Modjeska  herself  was  in  the  last 
stages  of  a  disease  she  simulated  unto  death  nightly. 
After  Field  had  added  colored  inks  to  his  stock  in 
trade,  these  fits  of  coughing  were  succeeded  by  a 
handkerchief  act,  in  which  the  dying  Camille  ap 
peared  to  spit  blood  in  carmine  splotches.  No 
burlesque  that  I  have  seen  of  a  play  frequently 
burlesqued  ever  approached  the  side-splitting  ab 
surdity  of  these  rehearsals  for  the  benefit  of  the 
heroine  of  "  Modjesky  as  Cameel." 


246  EUGENE   FIELD 


An,  while  Hodjesky  stated  we  wuz  somewhat  off  our 


I  half  opined  she  liked  it  by  the  look  upon  her  face, 
I  recollect  that  Hoover  regretted  he  done  wrong 
In  throwin  that  there  actor  through  a  vista  ten  miles 
long. 

When  Field  went  to  California  in  search  of 
health,  in  the  winter  of  1893-94,  Madame  Mod- 
jeska  placed  her  ranch,  located  ten  miles  from  the 
railway,  half-way  between  San  Diego  and  Los 
Angeles,  at  his  disposal.  The  ranch  contained 
about  a  thousand  acres,  and  he  was  given  carte 
blanche  to  treat  it  as  his  own  during  his  stay — a 
privilege  he  would  have  hastened  to  invite  all  his 
friends  to  share  had  his  health  been  equal  to  the 
opportunity  to  indulge  in  merry-making. 

At  a  breakfast  given  to  Modjeska  at  Kinsley's, 
April  22d,  1886,  Field  read  the  following  poem  in 
honor  of  the  guest: 

TO  HELENA  MODJESKA 

In  thy  sweet  self,  dear  lady  guest,  we  find 
Juliet's  dark  face,  Viola's  gentle  mien, 
The  dignity  of  Scotland's  martyr' d  queen — 

The  beauty  and  the  wit  of  Rosalind. 

What  wonder,  then,  that  we  who  mop  our  eyes 
And  sob  and  gush  when  we  should  criticise — 


TWO  PROFILES  OF  EUGENE  FIELD. 

The  upper  one  drawn  in  pencil  by  Field  himself ;  the  lower  one  by 
Jlfodjeska.  Reproduced  from  a  fly-leaf  of  Mrs.  Thompson's  volume  of 
autograph  verse. 


248  EUGENE    FIELD 

Charmed  by  the  graces  of  your  mien  and  mind— 
What  wonder  we  should  hasten  to  proclaim 
The  art  that  has  secured  thy  deathless  fame  ? 
And  this  we  swear:  We  will  endorse  no  name 
But  thine  alone  to  old  Melpomene, 
Nor  will  revolve,  since  rising  sons  are  we, 
Round  any  orb,  save,  dear  Modjeska,  thee 
Who  art  our  Pole  star,  and  will  ever  be. 

As  originally  written  by  Field,  the  rhymes  in 
the  first  four  lines  of  this  tribute  fell  alternately, 
the  lines  being  transposed  so  that  they  ran  in  order 
first,  third,  fourth,  and  second  of  the  poem  as  it 
appears  above.  For  the  fifth  and  sixth  lines  of  his 
first  version  Field  wrote: 

What  wonder,  then,  that  we  who  mop  our  eyes 
When  we  are  hired  to  rail  and  criticise? 

It  is  a  question  the  reader  can  decide  for  himself 
whether  his  second  thought  was  an  improvement. 
His  original  intention  contemplated  a  longer  poem, 
but  after  he  had  written  a  fourteenth  line  that  read : 

The  radiant  Pole  star  of  the  mimic  stage — 

Field  concluded  to  wind  it  up  with  the  fourteenth 
line,  as  in  the  finished  version. 

Upon  the  back  of  the  original  manuscript  of 


KELAT10NS  WITH  STAGE   FOLK     249 

these  lines  to  Madame  Modjeska  I  find  this  Sapphic 
fragment  under  the  line — suggestive  of  its  sub 
ject,  "The  Things  of  Life'7: 

A  little  sour,  a  little  sweet, 

Fill  out  our  brief  and  human  hour, 
meet — 

He  never  filled  out  the  blank  or  gave  a  clue  as 
to  what  further  reflections  on  the  springs  of  life 
were  in  his  mind. 

I  never  knew  Field  to  be  as  infatuated  with  any 
stage  production  as  with  the  first  performance  of 
the  pirated  edition  of  "  The  Mikado  "  in  Chicago, 
in  the  summer  of  1885.  The  cast  was  indeed  a 
memorable  one,  including  Koland  Reed  as  Koko, 
Alice  Harrison  as  Yum- Yum,  Belle  Archer  as 
Pitti-Sing,  Frederick  Archer  as  Pooh-Bah,  George 
Broderick  as  the  Mikado,  and  Mrs.  Broderick  as 
Katisha.  The  Brodericks  had  rich  church-choir 
voices,  Belle  Archer  was  a  beauty  of  that  fresh,  in 
nocent  type  that  did  one's  eyes  good  simply  to 
look  upon,  and  she  was  just  emerging  into  a  career 
that  grew  in  popularity  until  her  untimely  death. 
Archer  was  a  stilted  English  comedian  who  seemed 
built  to  be  "  insulted  "  as  Pooh-Bah,  while  Eoland 
Reed  and  Miss  Harrison  were  two  comedians  of 
the  first  rank.  As  a  singing  soubrette,  daring,  ver- 


250  EUGENE   FIELD 

satile,  and  popular,  Miss  Harrison  had  no  superiors 
in  her  day.  The  entire  company  was  saturated 
with  the  spirit  and  "  go "  of  Gilbert,  and  fairly 
tingled  with  the  joyous  music  of  Sullivan.  The  fact 
that  the  production  was  of  a  pirated  version,  un 
trammelled  by  the  oversight  of  D'Oyley  Carte, 
added  zest  to  the  performance  and  enlisted  Field's 
partisan  sympathy  and  co-operation  from  the  start. 
He  enjoyed  each  night's  performance  with  all  the 
relish  of  a  boy  eating  the  apples  of  pleasure  from 
a  forbidden  orchard.  When  the  season  came  to  an 
end,  as  all  good  things  must,  Field,  Ballantyne, 
and  I  went  to  Milwaukee  to  see  that  our  friends 
had  a  fair  start  there.  We  got  back  to  Chicago  on 
the  early  morning  milk  train,  and  in  "  Sharps  and 
Flats"  the  next  day  Field  recorded  the  defini 
tive  judgment  that  "  Miss  Alice  Harrison,  in  her 
performance  of  Yum- Yum  in  Gilbert  and  Sullivan's 
new  opera  of  '  The  Mikado,'  has  set  the  standard 
of  that  interesting  role,  and  it  is  a  high  one.  In 
fact,  we  doubt  whether  it  will  ever  be  approached 
by  any  other  artist  on  the  American  stage." 

It  never  has  been  approached,  nor  has  the  opera, 
so  far  as  my  information  goes,  ever  been  given  with 
the  same  Gilbertian  verve  and  swing.  The  subse 
quent  performance  of  "  The  Mikado  "  by  the  au 
thorized  company,  seen  throughout  the  United 


EELATIONS  WITH  STAGE   FOLK     251 

States,  seemed  by  comparison  "  like  water  after 
wine." 

On  the  operatic  stage  Madame  Sembrich  was  by 
all  odds  Field's  favorite  prima  donna.  He  was  one 
of  the  earliest  writers  on  the  press  to  recognize  the 
wonderful  beauty  of  the  singer's  voice  and  the  per 
fection  of  her  method.  He  easily  distinguished 
between  her  trained  faculty  and  the  bird-like  notes 
of  Patti,  but  the  personality  of  the  former  won 
him,  where  he  remained  unmoved  when  Patti's 
wonderful  voice  rippled  through  the  most  difficult, 
florid  music  like  crystal  running  water  over  the 
smooth  stones  of  a  mountain  brook.  Field's  ad 
miration  for  Sembrich  often  found  expression  in 
more  conventional  phrases,  but  never  in  a  form  that 
better  illustrated  how  she  attracted  him  than  in  the 
following  amusing  comment  on  her  appearance 
in  Chicago,  January  24th,  1884,  in  Lucia: 

It  is  not  at  all  surprising  that  Madame  Sembrich 
caught  on  so  grandly  night  before  last.  She  is  the 
most  comfortable-looking  prima  donna  that  has  ever 
visited  Chicago.  She  is  one  of  your  square-built, 
stout-rigged  little  ladies  with  a  bright,  honest  face 
and  bouncing  manners.  Her  arms  are  long  but 
shapely,  and  in  the  last  act  of  Lucia  her  luxurious 
black  hair  tumbles  down  and  envelopes  her  like  a 
mosquito  net.  Her  audience  night  before  last  was  a 


252  EUGENE    FIELD 

coldly  critical  one,  of  course,  and  it  sat  like  a  bump 
on  a  log  until  Sembrich  made  her  appearance  in  the 
mad  scene,  where  Lucheer  gives  her  vocal  circus  in 
the  presence  of  twenty-five  Scotch  ladies  in  red,  white, 
and  green  dresses,  and  twenty-five  supposititious 
Scotch  gentlemen  in  costumes  of  the  Court  of  Louis 
XIV.  Instead  of  sending  for  a  doctor  to  assist  Lu 
cheer  in  her  trouble,  these  fantastically  attired  ladies 
and  gentlemen  stand  around  and  look  dreary  while 
Lucheer  does  ground  and  lofty  tumbling,  and  executes 
pirouettes  and  trapeze  performances  in  the  vocal  art. 

Then  the  audience  began  to  wake  up.  The  com 
fortable-looking  little  prima  donna  gathered  herself 
together  and  let  loose  the  cyclone  of  her  genius  and 
accomplishments.  It  was  a  whirlwind  of  appoggia- 
turas,  semi-quavers,  accenturas,  rinforzandos,  mod- 
eratos,  prestos,  trills,  sforzandos,  fortes,  rallentan- 
dos,  supertonics,  salterellos,  sonatas,  ensembles,  pi- 
anissimos,  staccatos,  accellerandos,  quasi-innocents, 
cadenzas,  symphones,  cavatinas,  arias,  counter-points, 
fiorituras,  tonics,  sub-medicants,  allegrissimos,  chro 
matics,  concertos,  andantes,  etudes,  larghettos,  ada 
gios,  and  every  variety  of  turilural  and  dingus  known 
to  the  minstrel  art.  The  audience  was  paralyzed. 
When  she  finally  struck  up  high  F  sharp  in  the  de 
scending  fourth  of  D  in  alt,  one  gentleman  from  the 
South  Side  who  had  hired  a  dress-coat  for  the  occa 
sion  broke  forth  in  a  hearty  "  Brava ! "  This  en 
couraged  a  resident  of  the  North  Side  to  shout  "  Bra- 


RELATIONS  WITH  STAGE   FOLK      253 

vissimo,"  and  then  several  dudes  from  the  Blue 
Island  district  raised  the  cry  of  "  Bong,"  "  Tray 
beang,"  and  "  Brava  !  " 

The  applause  became  universal — it  spread  like 
wild-fire.  The  vast  audience  seemed  crazed  with  de 
light  and  enthusiasm.  And  it  argues  volumes  for 
the  culture  of  our  enterprising  and  fair  city  that  not 
one  word  of  English  was  heard  among  the  encourag 
ing  and  approving  shouts  that  were  hurled  at  the 
smiling  prima  donna.  Even  the  pork  merchants  and 
the  grain  dealers  in  the  family  circle  vied  with  each 
other  in  hoarsely  wafting  Italian  words  of  cheer  at 
the  triumphant  Sembrich.  French  was  hardly  good 
enough,  although  it  was  utilized  by  a  few  large  manu 
facturers  and  butterine  merchants  who  sat  in  the 
parquet,  and  one  man  was  put  out  by  the  ushers  be 
cause  he  so  far  forgot  himself  and  the  eclat  of  the 
occasion  as  to  shout  in  vehement  German :  "  Mein 
Gott  in  himmel  das  ist  ver  tampt  goot !  "  It  was 
an  ovation,  but  it  was  no  more  than  Sembrich  de 
served — bless  her  fat  little  buttons ! 

Remember,  this  was  nearly  twenty  years  ago. 
It  argues  much  for  the  saneness  of  Field's  enthusi 
asm,  as  well  as  for  the  perfection  of  Madame  Sem- 
brich's  methods,  that  she  is  still  able  to  arouse  a 
like  enthusiasm  in  audiences  where  true  dramatic 
instinct  and  high  vocal  art  are  valued  as  the  rarest 
combination  on  the  operatic  stage. 


254  EUGENE    FIELD 

Two  manuscript  poems  in  my  scrap-book  testify 
that  another  songster,  early  in  Field's  Chicago 
life,  enjoyed  his  friendship  and  inspired  his  pen 
along  a  line  it  was  to  travel  many  a  tuneful  metre. 
The  first,  with  frequent  erasures  and  interlineations, 
bears  date  May  25th,  1894,  and  was  inscribed, 
"  To  Mrs.  Will  J.  Davis."  It  runs  as  follows: 

A   HUSHABY  SONG 

The  stars  are  twinkling  in  the  skies, 

The  earth  is  lost  in  slumber  deep — 
So  hush,  my  sweet,  and  close  your  eyes 

And  let  me  lull  your  soul  to  sleep; 
Compose  thy  dimpled  hands  to  rest, 

And  like  a  little  Girdling  lie 
Secure  within  thy  cosy  nest 
Upon  my  mother  breast 

And  slumber  to  my  lullaby; 

80  hushaby,  oh,  hushaby. 

The  moon  is  singing  to  the  star 

The  little  song  I  sing  to  you, 
The  father  Sun  has  strayed  afar — 

As  baby's  sire  is  straying,  too. 
And  so  the  loving  mother  moon 

Sings  to  the  little  star  on  high, 
And  as  she  sings,  her  gentle  tune 
Is  borne  to  me,  and  thus  I  croon 

To  thee,  my  sweet,  that  lullaby 

Of  hushaby,  oh,  hushaby. 


KELATIONS  WITH  STAGE  FOLK     255 

There  is  a  little  one  asleep 

That  does  not  hear  his  mother's  song, 
But  angel-watchers  as  I  weep 

Surround  his  grave  the  night-tide  long; 
And  as  I  sing,  my  sweet,  to  you, 

Oh,  would  the  lullaby  I  sing — 
The  same  sweet  lullaby  he  knew 
When  slumbering  on  this  bosom,  too — 

Were  borne  to  him  on  angel  wing ! 

So  hushaby ,  oh,  hushaby. 

The  second  of  these  songs  bears  the  same  title 
as  one  of  Field's  favorite  tales,  and  is  inscribed, 
"  To  Jessie  Bartlett  Davis  on  the  first  anniversary 
of  her  little  boy's  birth,  October  6th,  1884  ": 

THE  SINGER  MOTHER 

A  Singer  sang  a  glorious  song 
So  grandly  clear  and  subtly  sweet, 

That,  with  huzzas,  the  listening  throng 
Cast  down  their  tributes  at  her  feet. 

The  Singer  heard  their  shouts  the  while, 
But  her  serene  and  haughty  face 

Was  lighted  by  no  flattered  smile 
Provoked  by  homage  in  that  place. 

The  Singer  sang  that  night  again 
In  mother  tones,  tender  and  deep, 

Not  to  the  public  ear,  but  when 
She  rocked  her  little  one  to  sleep. 


256  EUGENE    FIELD 

The  song  we  bless  through  all  the  years 
As  memory's  holiest,  sweetest  thing, 

Instinct  with  pathos  and  with  tears — 
The  song  that  mothers  always  sing. 

So  tuneful  was  the  lullaby 

The  mother  sang,  her  little  child 
Cooed,  oh!  so  sweetly  in  reply, 

Stretched  forth  its  dimpled  hands  and  smiled. 

The  Singer  crooning  there  above 

The  cradle  where  her  darling  lay 
Snatched  to  her  breast  her  smiling  love 

And  sang  his  soul  to  dreams  away. 

Oh,  mother-love,  that  knows  no  guile, 

That's  deaf  to  ftatt'ry,  blind  to  art, 
A  dimpled  hand  hath  wooed  thy  smile — 

A  baby's  cooing  touched  thy  heart. 

Lest  my  readers  should  conclude  from  these  early 
specimens  of  Field's  fondness  for  lilting  lullabies 
that  the  gentler  sex  and  "  mother  love  "  blinded 
him  to  the  manly  attractions  and  true  worth  of  his 
own  sex,  let  the  following  never-to-be-forgotten  ode 
to  the  waistcoat  of  the  papa  of  the  hero  of  the  two 
preceding  songs  bear  witness.  Mr.  Davis  has  been 
a  manager  of  first-class  theatres  and  theatrical  com- 


JESSIE   BARTLETT    DAVIS. 


RELATIONS  WITH   STAGE   FOLK     257 

parries  for  a  score  of  years,  and  there  are  thousands 
to  testify  that  in  the  rhymes  that  follow  Field  has 
done  no  more  than  justice  to  the  amazing  "  con 
fections  "  in  wearing  apparel  he  affected  in  the 
days  when  we  were  boys  together: 

Of  waistcoats   there  are   divers  kinds,  from   those 

severely  chaste 
To  those  with  fiery  colors  dight  or  with  fair  figures 

traced  : 
Those  that  high  as  liver-pads  and  chest-protectors 

serve, 
While  others  proudly  sweep  away  in  a  sub  stomachic 

curve, 
But  the  grandest  thing  in  waistcoats  in  the  streets 

in  this  great  and  wondrous  west 
Is  that  which  folks  are  wont  to  call  the  Will  J.  Pavis 

vest! 

This  paragon  of  comeliness  is  cut  nor  low  nor  high 
But  just  enough  of  loth  to  show  a  bright  imported 

tie: 

Bound  neatly  with  the  choicest  silks  its  lappets  wave- 
like  roll, 
While    a    watch-chain    dangles   sprucely   from    the 

proper  buttonhole 

And  a  certain  sensuous  languor  is  ineffably  expressed 
In  the  contour  and  the  mise  en  scene  of  the  Will  J. 
Davis  vest. 
VOL.  L— 17 


258  EUGENE    FIELD 

Its  texture  is  of  softest  silk :  Its  colors,  ah,  how  vain 
The  task  to  name  the  splendid  hues  that  in  that  vest 

obtain! 
Go,  view  the  rainbow  and  recount  the  glories  of  the 

sight 

And  number  all  the  radiances  that  in  its  glow  unite, 
And  then,  when  they  are  counted,  with  pride  be  it 

confessed 
They're  nil  beside  the  splendor  of  the  Will  J.  Davis 

vest. 

Sometimes  the  gorgeous  pattern  is  a  sportive  pump 
kin  vine, 

At  other  times  the  lily  and  the  ivy  intertwine: 
And  then  again  the  ground  is  white  with  purple  polka 

dots 

Or  else  a  dainty  lavender  with  red  congestive  spots — 
In  short,  there  is  no  color,  hue,  or  shade  you  could 

suggest 
That  doesn't  in  due  time  occur  in  a  Will  J.  Davis  vest. 

Now  William  is  not  handsome — he's  told  he's  just 

like  me. 
And  in  one  respect  I  think  he  is,  for  he's  as  good  as 

good  can  be! 

Yet,  while  I  find  my  chances  with  the  girls  are  pre 
cious  slim, 

The  women-folks  go  wildly  galivanting  after  him: 
And  after  serious  study  of  the  problem  I  have  guessed 
That  the  secret  of  this  frenzy  is  the  Will  J.  Davis 
vest. 


EELATIONS  WITH  STAGE   FOLK     259 

I've  stood  in  Colorado  and  looked  on  peaks  of  snow 

While  prisoned  torrents  made  their  moan  two  thou 
sand  feet  below: 

The  Simplon  pass  and  prodigies  Vesuvian  have  I 
done, 

And  gazed  in  rock-bou/id  Norway  upon  the  midnight 
sun — 

Yet  at  no  time  such  wonderment,  such  transports 
filled  my  breast 

As  when  I  fixed  my  orbs  upon  a  Will  J.  Davis  vest. 

All  vainly  have  I  hunted  this  worldly  sphere  around 
For  a  waistcoat  like  that  waistcoat,  but  that  waistcoat 

can't  be  found! 
The  Frenchman  shrugs  his  shoulders  and  the  German 

answers  "  nein," 
When  I  try  the  haberdasheries  on  the  Seine  and  on 

the  Rhine, 
And  the  truckling  British  tradesman  having  trotted 

out  his  best 
Is  forced  to  own  he  can't  compete  with  the  Will  J. 

Davis  vest. 

But  better  yet,  Dear  William,  than  this  garb  of  which 
I  sing 

Is  a  gift  which  God  has  given  you,  and  that's  a  price 
less  thing. 

What  stuff  we  mortals  spin  and  weave,  though  pleas 
ing  to  the  eye, 

Doth  presently  corrupt,  to  be  forgotten  by  and  by. 


260  EUGENE    FIELD 

One  tiling,  and  one  alone,  survives  old  time's  remorse 
less  test — 

The  valor  of  a  heart  like  that  which  beats  beneath 
that  vest! 

Playgoers  of  these  by-gone  days  will  remember 
the  name  of  Kate  Claxton  with  varying  degrees 
of  pleasure.  She  was  an  actress  of  what  was  then 
known  as  the  Union  Square  Theatre  type — a  type 
that  preceded  the  Augustin  Daly  school  and  was 
strong  in  emotional  roles.  With  the  late  Charles 
H.  Thome,  Jr.,  at  its  head,  it  gave  such  plays  as 
"  The  Banker's  Daughter,"  "  The  Two  Orphans," 
"The  Celebrated  Case,"  and  "The  Danicheffs," 
their  great  popular  vogue.  Miss  Claxton  was  what 
is  known  as  the  leading  juvenile  lady  in  the  Union 
Square  Company,  and  her  Louise,  the  blind  sister, 
to  Miss  Sara  Jewetfs  Henrietta  in  "  The  Two 
Orphans,"  won  for  her  a  national  reputation. 
She  was  endowed  by  nature  with  a  superb  shock 
of  dark  red  hair,  over  which  a  Titian  might  have 
raved.  This  was  very  effective  when  flowing  loose 
about  the  bare  shoulders  of  the  blind  orphan,  but 
afterward,  when  Miss  Claxton  went  starring  over 
the  country  and  had  the  misfortune  to  have  several 
narrow  escapes  from  fire,  the  newspaper  wits  of  the 
day  could  not  resist  the  inclination  to  ascribe  a 
certain  incendiarism  to  her  hair,  and  also  to  her 


RELATIONS  WITH  STAGE  FOLK     261 

art.  And  Field,  who  was  on  terms  of  personal 
friendship  with  Miss  Claxton;  led  the  cry  with  the 
following : 

BIOGRAPHY  OF  KATE  CLAXTON 

This  famous  conflagration  broke  out  on  May  3d, 
1846,  and  has  been  raging  with  more  or  less  violence 
ever  since.  She  comes  of  a  famous  family,  being  a 
lineal  descendant  of  the  furnace  mentioned  in  script 
ural  history  as  having  been  heated  seven  times  hotter 
than  it  could  be  heated,  in  honor  of  the  tripartite 
alliance  of  Shadrach,  Meshach,  and  Abed-nego.  One 
of  her  most  illustrious  ancestors  performed  in  Rome 
on  the  occasion  of  the  Emperor  Nero's  famous  violin 
obligato,  and  subsequently  appeared  in  London  when 
a  large  part  of  that  large  metropolis  succumbed  to 
the  fiery  element.  This  artist  is  known  and  respected 
in  every  community  where  there  is  a  fire  department, 
and  the  lurid  flames  of  her  genius,  the  burning  elo 
quence  of  her  elocution,  and  the  calorific  glow  of  her 
consummate  art  have  acquired  her  fame,  wherever 
the  enterprising  insurance  agent  has  penetrated. 
Mrs.  O'Leary's  cow  vainly  sought  to  rob  her  of  much 
of  her  glory,  but  through  the  fiery  ordeal  of  jealousy, 
envy,  and  persecution,  has  our  heroine  passed,  till, 
from  an  incipient  blaze,  she  has  swelled  into  the  most 
magnificent  holocaust  the  world  has  ever  known. 
And  it  is  not  alone  in  her  profession  that  this  gifted 


262  EUGENE    FIELD 

adustion  has  amazed  and  benefited  an  incinerated 
public:  to  her  the  world  is  indebted  for  the  many 
fire-escapes,  life-preservers,  salamander  safes,  im 
proved  pompier  ladders,  play-house  exits,  standpipes, 
and  Babcock  extinguishers  of  modern  times.  In  pay 
ing  ardent  homage,  therefore,  to  this  incandescent 
crematory  this  week,  let  us  recognize  her  not  only  as 
the  reigning  queen  of  ignition,  diathermancy,  and 
transcalency,  but  also  as  the  promoter  of  many  of  the 
ingenious  and  philanthropic  boons  the  public  now 
enjoys. 

This  was  written  in  November,  1883,  and  is 
worthy  of  remark  as  an  illustration  of  how  in 
that  day  Field  began  deliberately  to  multiply 
words,  each  having  a  slight  difference  of  mean 
ing,  as  an  exercise  in  the  use  of  English — a  prac 
tice  that  eventually  gave  him  a  vocabulary  of  al 
most  unlimited  range  and  marvellous  accuracy. 

The  patience  of  the  reader  forbids  that  I  should 
attempt  an  enumeration  of  all  Field's  friendships 
with  stage  folk,  or  of  the  unending  flow  of  good- 
natured  raillery  and  sympathetic  comment  that 
kept  his  favorites  among  them  ever  before  the 
public  eye.  When  it  came  Field's  time,  all  un 
timely,  to  pay  the  debt  we  all  must  pay,  it  was 
left  for  Sir  Henry  Irving,  the  dean  of  the  Eng 
lish-speaking  profession,  to  acknowledge  in  a  brief 


KELATIONS  WITH  STAGE   FOLK      263 

telegram  his  own  and  its  debt  to  the  departed  poet 
and  paragrapher  in  these  words: 

The  death  of  Eugene  Field  is  a  loss  not  only  to 
his  many  friends,  but  to  the  world  at  large.  He  was 
distinctly  a  man  of  genius,  and  he  was  dowered  with 
a  nature  whose  sweetness  endeared  him  to  all  who 
knew  him.  To  me  he  was  a  loved  and  honored 
friend,  and  the  world  seems  vastly  the  poorer  with 
out  him. 

Of  what  singular  materials  and  contradictory 
natures  was  their  friendship  compact.  From  the 
day  Henry  Irving  first  landed  in  New  York  until 
Field's  pen  was  laid  aside  forever  the  actor's  phys 
ical  peculiarities  and  vocal  idiosyncrasies  were 
the  constant  theme  of  diverting  skits  and  life-like 
vocal  mimicry.  Field,  however,  always  man 
aged  to  mingle  his  references  to  Mr.  Irving's  un 
matched  legs  and  eccentric  elocution  with  some 
genuine  and  unexpected  tribute  to  his  personal 
character  and  histrionic  genius.  Nat  Goodwin 
and  Henry  Dixey  were  the  two  comedians  whose 
imitations  >of  Mr.  Irving's  peculiarities  of  voice 
and  manner  were  most  widely  accepted  as  life 
like,  while  intensely  amusing.  But  neither  of 
them  could  approach  Field  in  catching  the  subtile 
inflection  of  Henry  Irving's  "ISFaw!  ISJaw!  "  and 


264  EUGENE    FIELD 

"  Ah-h!  Ah-h!  "  with  which  the  great  actor  pre 
fixed  so  many  of  his  lines.  With  a  daring  that 
would  have  been  impertinent  in  another,  Field  gave 
imitations  of  Mr.  Irving  in  Louis  XI  and  Hamlet 
in  his  presence  and  to  his  intense  enjoyment.  It 
is  a  pity,  however,  that  Sir  Henry  could  not  have 
been  behind  the  screen  some  night  at  Billy  Boyle's 
to  hear  Field  and  Dixey  in  a  rivalry  of  imitations 
of  himself  in  his  favorite  roles.  Dixey  was  the 
more  amusing,  because  he  did  and  said  things  in 
the  Irvingesque  manner  which  the  original  would 
not  have  dreamed  of  doing,  whereas  Field  con 
tented  himself  with  mimicking  his  voice  and  gest 
ure  to  life. 

When  Irving  reached  Chicago,  Field  and  I,  with 
the  connivance  of  Mr.  Stone,  lured  him  into  a 
newspaper  controversy  over  his  conception  and 
impersonation  of  Hamlet^  which  ended  in  an  ex 
change  of  midnight  suppers  and  won  for  me  the 
sobriquet  of  "  Slaughter  Thompson "  from  Mis 
tress  Ellen  Terry,  who  enjoyed  the  splintering  of 
lances  where  all  acknowledged  her  the  queen  of 
the  lists. 

I  have  reserved  for  latest  mention  the  one  actor 
who  throughout  Field's  life  was  always  dearest 
to  his  heart.  Apart,  they  seemed  singularly  alike; 
together,  the  similarities  of  Eugene  Field  and  Sol 


RELATIONS  WITH   STAGE   FOLK      265 

Smith  Russell  were  overshadowed  by  their  differ 
ences.  There  was  a  certain  resemblance  of  out 
line  in  the  general  lines  of  their  faces  and  figures. 
Both  were  clean-shaven  men,  with  physiognomies 
that  responded  to  the  passing  thought  of  each, 
with  this  difference — Field's  facial  muscles  seemed 
to  act  in  obedience  to  his  will,  while  Russell's  ap 
peared  to  break  into  whimsical  lines  involuntarily. 
Russell  has  a  smile  that  would  win  its  way  around 
the  world.  Field  could  contort  his  face  into  a 
thunder-cloud  which  could  send  children  almost 
into  convulsions  of  fear.  There  was  one  story 
which  they  both  recited  with  invariable  success, 
that  gave  their  friends  a  great  chance  to  compare 
their  respective  powers  of  facial  expression.  It 
was  of  a  green  New  England  farmer  who  visited 
Boston,  and  of  course  climbed  up  four  flights  of 
stairs  to  a  skylight  "  studio  "  to  have  his  "  daguer- 
otype  took."  After  the  artist  had  succeeded  in 
getting  his  subject  in  as  stiff  and  uncomfortable 
position  as  possible,  after  cautioning  him  not  to 
move,  he  disappeared  into  his  ill-smelling  cabinet 
to  prepare  the  plate.  "When  this  was  ready  he 
stepped  airily  out  to  the  camera  and  bade  his  vic 
tim  "  look  pleasant."  Failing  to  get  the  impos 
sible  response  the  artist  bade  his  sitter  to  smile. 
Then  the  old  farmer  with  a  wrathful  and  torture- 


266  EUGENE    FIELD 

riven  contortion  of  his  mouth  ejaculated,  "  I  am 
smiling!  " 

In  rendering  this,  "  I  am  smiling!  "  there  was 
the  misery  of  pent-up  mental  woe  and  physical 
agony  in  Russell's  voice  and  face.  There  was 
something  ludicrously  hopeless  about  the  attempt, 
as  Russell's  face  mingled  the  lines  of  mirth  and 
despair  in  a  querulous  grin  that  seemed  to  say, 
"  For  heaven's  sake,  man,  don't  you  see  that  I 
am  laughing  myself  to  death?"  Field's  "I  am 
smiling!  "  was  almost  demoniacal  in  its  mixture 
of  wrath,  vindictiveness,  and  impatience.  There 
was  the  snarl  of  a  big  animal  about  the  grin  with 
which  he  exposed  his  teeth  in  the  mockery  of 
mirth.  His  whole  countenance  glowered  at  the 
invisible  artist  in  lines  of  suppressed  rage,  that 
seemed  to  bid  him  cut  short  the  exposure  or  forfeit 
his  life. 

All  Field's  most  successful  bits  of  mimicry  and 
stories  were  learned  from  Sol  Smith  Russell,  and 
very  many  of  the  latter's  most  successful  recita 
tions  were  written  for  him  by  Field.  They  talked 
them  over  together,  compared  their  versions  and 
methods,  and  stimulated  each  other  to  fresh  feats 
of  mimicry  and  eccentric  character  delineation. 
Many  a  night,  and  oft  after  midnight,  in  the 
rotunda  of  the  Tremont  House,  when  John  A. 


SOL  SMITH   RUSSELL. 


KELATIONS  WITH  STAGE   FOLK      267 

Rice,  of  bibliomaniac  fame,  was  its  lessee,  I  was 
the  sole  paying  auditor  of  these  seances,  the  bal 
ance  of  the  audience  consisting  of  the  head  night 
clerk,  night  watchman,  and  "  scrub  ladies." 

It  may  be  recalled  that  Field's  "  Our  Two  Opin 
ions,"  written  in  imitation  of  James  Whitcomb 
Riley's  most  successful  manner,  was  dedicated  to 
Sol  Smith  Russell,  and  he  for  his  part  put  into  its 
recitation  a  subdued  dramatic  force  and  pathos 
that  won  from  Henry  Irving  the  comment  that 
it  was  the  greatest  piece  of  American  characteri 
zation  he  had  ever  witnessed. 

Whenever  Russell  came  to  town  Field  spent 
all  the  time  he  could  spare,  when  Russell  was  not 
acting  or  asleep,  in  his  company.  They  ex 
changed  all  sorts  of  stories,  but  delighted  chiefly 
in  relating  anecdotes  of  New  England  life  and 
character.  As  Russell  had  for  years  travelled  the 
circuit  of  small  eastern  towns,  he  had  an  exhaust- 
less  repertory  of  these,  that  smacked  of  salt  cod 
fish  and  chewing-gum,  checkerberry  lozenges,  and 
that  shrewd,  dry  Yankee  wit  that  is  equal  to  any 
situation.  Between  the  two  of  them  they  per 
fected  two  stories  that  have  been  heard  in  every 
town  in  the  Union  where  Russell  has  played  or 
Field  read,  "  The  Teacher  of  Ettyket  "  and  "  The 
Old  Deacon  and  the  New  Skule  House."  These 


268  EUGENE   FIELD 

were  originally  Russell's  property,  and  he  was 
inimitable  in  telling  them.  But  having  once 
caught  Field's  fancy,  he  proceeded  to  elaborate 
them  in  a  way  to  establish  at  least  a  joint  owner 
ship  in  them. 

I  wish  I  could  remember  the  speech  against  the 
new  school-house.  It  may  be  in  print  for  ought 
I  know,  but  I  have  never  run  across  it.  He 
opened  with  the  declaration,  "  Fellow  Citizens, 
I'm  agin  this  yer  new  skule  house."  Then  he 
went  on  to  say  that  "  the  little  old  red  skule  house 
was  good  enuff  fur  them  as  cum  afore  us,  it  was 
good  enuff  fur  us,  an'  I  reckon  its  good  enuff  fur 
them  as  cum  arter  us."  Before  proceeding  he 
would  take  a  generous  mouthful  of  loose  tobacco. 
Next  he  told  how  he  had  never  been  to  school 
more  than  a  few  weeks  "  atween  seasons,  and  yet 
I  reckon  I  kin  mow  my  swarth  with  the  best  of 
them  that's  full  of  book-larnin  an'  all  them  sort 
of  jim-cracks."  Then  he  proceeded  to  illustrate 
the  uselessness  of  "  book-larnin  "  by  referring  to 
"  Dan'l  Webster,  good  likely  a  boy  ez  wus  raised 
in  these  parts,  what's  bekum  ov  him?  Got  his 
head  full  of  redin,  ritin,  cifern,  and  book-larnin. 
What's  bekum  of  him,  I  say?  Went  off  to  Boston 
and  I  never  hearn  tell  of  him  arterwards." 

Russell's  version  of  the  story  ended  here  with 


RELATIONS  WITH   STAGE   FOLK      2G9 

an  emphatic  declaration  that  the  old  deacon  voted 
"  No !  "  Field,  on  the  contrary,  when  the  laugh 
over  Daniel  Webster's  disappearance  subsided, 
and,  seemingly  as  an  after-thought,  before  taking 
his  seat  mumbled  out,  "  By  the  way,  I  did  hear 
somebody  tell  Dan'l  had  written  a  dictionary  on 
a  bridge,  huh!  " 

Field's  attentions  to  Russell  did  not  end  with 
their  personal  association.  Week  after  week  and 
month  after  month  he  sent  apocryphal  stories  fly 
ing  through  the  newspapers  about  wonderful 
things  that  never  happened  to  Sol  and  his  family. 
At  one  time  he  had  Russell  on  the  high  road  to  a 
Presidential  nomination  on  the  Prohibition  ticket. 
lie  solemnly  recorded  generous  donations  that 
Russell  was  (not)  constantly  making  to  philan 
thropic  objects,  with  the  result  that  the  gentle 
comedian  was  pestered  with  applications  for 
money  for  all  sorts  of  institutions.  In  order  to 
provide  Russell  with  the  means  to  bestow  un 
limited  largess,  Field  endowed  him  with  the  touch 
of  Midas.  He  would  report  that  the  matchless 
exponent  of  "  Shabby  Genteel "  bought  lead 
mines,  to  be  disappointed  by  finding  tons  of  vir 
gin  gold  in  the  quartz.  Like  Bret  Harte's  hero  of 
Downs  Flat,  when  Russell  dug  for  water  his  luck 
was  so  contrary  that  he  struck  diamonds.  When 


270  EUGENE    FIELD 

he  ordered  oysters  each  half  shell  had  its  bed  of 
pearls.  One  specimen  will  do  to  illustrate  the 
character  of  the  gifts  Field  bestowed  on  Russell 
"  as  from  an  exhaustless  urn  " : 

Sol  Smith  Bussell's  luck  is  almost  as  great  as  his 
art.  Last  week  his  little  son  Bob  was  digging  in  the 
back  yard  of  the  family  residence  in  Minneapolis,  and 
he  developed  a  vein  of  coal  big  enough  to  supply  the 
whole  state  of  Minnesota  with  fuel  for  the  next  ten 
years.  Mr.  Kussell  was  away  from  home  at  the  time, 
but  his  wife  (who  has  plenty  of  what  the  Yankees 
call  faculty)  had  presence  of  mind  not  to  say  any 
thing  about  the  "  Find  "  until,  through  her  attorney, 
she  had  secured  an  option  on  all  the  real  estate  in 
the  locality. 

They  never  had  any  differences  of  opinion  like 
"  me  'nd  Jim." 

'So  after  all  it's  soothin'  to  know 

That  here  Sol  stays  'nd  yonder 's  Jim — 
He  havin'  his  opinyin  uv  Sol, 

Sol  havin'  his  opinyin  uv  him. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
BEGINNING  OF  HIS   LITERARY   EDUCATION 

Before  he  came  to  Chicago,  pretty  much  all  that 
Eugene  Field  knew  of  literature  and  books  had 
been  taken  in  at  the  pores,  as  Joey  Laddie  would 
say,  through  association  with  lawyers,  doctors,  and 
actors.  His  academic  education,  as  we  have  seen, 
was  of  the  most  cursory  and  intermittent  nature. 
When  he  left  the  University  of  Missouri  it  was 
without  a  diploma,  without  studious  habits,  and 
without  pretensions  to  scholarship.  His  trip  to 
Europe  dissipated  his  fortune,  and  his  early  mar 
riage  rendered  it  imperative  that  he  should  stop 
study  as  well  as  play  and  go  to  work.  His  father's 
library  was  safely  stored  in  St.  Louis  for  the  con 
venient  season  that  was  postponed  from  year  to 
year,  until  a  score  were  numbered  ere  the  nails 
were  drawn  from  the  precious  boxes.  Every  cent 
of  the  salary  that  might  have  been  squandered  (?) 
in  books  was  needed  to  feed  and  clothe  the  raven 
ous  little  brood  that  came  faster  than  their  parents 
"  could  afford,"  as  he  has  told  us.  What  time  was 
not  devoted  to  them  and  to  the  daily  round  of 

newspaper  writing  was  spent  in  conversing  with 
271 


272  EUGENE    FIELD 

his  fellows,  studying  life  first  hand,  visiting  thea 
tres  and  enjoying  himself  in  his  own  way  gener 
ally.  All  the  advance  that  Field  had  made  in 
journalism  before  the  year  1883  was  due  to  native 
aptitude,  an  unfailing  fund  of  humor  and  an  in 
herited  turn  for  literary  expression.  Without 
ever  having  read  that  author,  he  followed  Pope's 
axiom  that  "  the  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man." 
This  he  construed  to  include  women  and  children. 
The  latter  he  had  every  opportunity  to  study  early 
and  often  in  his  own  household,  and  most  thor 
oughly  did  he  avail  himself  thereof.  As  for 
books,  his  acquaintance  with  them  for  literary 
pleasure  and  uses  seemed  to  have  begun  and 
ended  with  the  Bible  and  the  New  England 
Primer.  They  furnished  the  coach  that  enabled 
his  fancy  "  to  take  the  air." 

His  knowledge  of  Shakespeare,  so  far  as  I  could 
judge,  had  been  acquired  through  the  theatre. 
The  unacted  plays  were  not  familiar  to  him.  Few 
people  realize  what  a  person  of  alert  intelligence 
and  retentive  memory  can  learn  of  the  best  Eng 
lish  literature  through  the  theatre-going  habit. 
Measuring  Field's  opportunity  by  my  own,  dur 
ing  the  decade  from  1873  to  1883,  here  is  a  list 
of  Shakespearian  plays  he  could  have  taken  in 
through  eyes  and  ears  without  touching  a  book: 


HIS  LITERARY  EDUCATION          273 

"The  Tempest,"  "The  Merry  Wives  of  Wind 
sor,"  "  Measure  for  Measure/'  "  The  Comedy  of 
Errors,"  "  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,"  "  A  Mid 
summer  Night's  Dream,"  "  The  Merchant  of 
Venice,"  "As  You  Like  It,"  "The  Taming  of 
the  Shrew,"  "Twelfth  Night,"  "  Kichard  II," 
"Kichard  III,"  "Henry  IV,"  "Henry  V," 
"  Coriolanus,"  "Borneo  and  Juliet,"  "Julius 
Csesar,"  "Macbeth,"  "Hamlet,"  "King  Lear," 
"  Othello,"  "  Antony  and  Cleopatra,"  and  "  Cym- 
beline." 

This  list,  embracing  two-thirds  of  all  the  plays 
Shakespeare  wrote,  and  practically  all  of  his  dra 
matic  work  worth  knowing,  covers  what  Field 
might  have  seen  and,  with  a  few  possible  exceptions, 
unquestionably  did  see,  in  the  way  calculated  to  give 
him  the  keenest  pleasure  and  the  most  lasting  im 
pressions.  These  plays,  during  that  decade,  were 
presented  by  such  famous  actors  and  actresses  as 
Edwin  Booth,  Lawrence  Barrett,  John  McCul- 
lough,  Barry  Sullivan,  George  Eignold,  E.  L. 
Davenport,  Ristori,  Adelaide  Neilson,  Modjeska, 
Mary  Anderson,  Mrs.  D.  P.  Bowers,  and  Rose 
Eytinge  in  the  leading  roles.  It  is  impossible  to 
overestimate  the  value  of  listening  night  after 
night  to  the  great  thoughts  and  subtle  philosophy 

of  the  master  dramatist  from  the  lips  of  such  in- 
VOL.  I.— 18 


274  EUGENE    FIELD 

terpreters,  to  say  nothing  of  the  daily  association 
with  the  men  and  women  who  lived  and  moved  in 
the  atmosphere  of  the  drama  and  its  traditions. 
So,  perhaps,  it  is  only  fair  to  include  Shakespeare 
and  the  contemporaneous  drama  with  the  Bible 
and  the  New  England  Primer  as  the  only  staple 
foundations  of  Field's  literary  education  when  he 
came  to  Chicago.  If  this  could  have  been  ana 
lyzed  more  closely,  it  would  have  shown  some 
traces  of  what  was  drilled  into  him  by  his  old  pre 
ceptor,  Dr.  Tufts,  and  many  odds  and  ends  of  the 
recitations  from  the  standard  speaker  of  his  elo 
cutionary  youth,  but  no  solids  either  of  Greek  or 
Latin  lore  and  not  a  trace  of  his  beloved  Horace. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  all  I  had  ever  learned 
in  school  or  college  of  Greek  and  Latin  had  slid 
from  me  as  easily  as  running  water  over  a  smooth 
stone,  leaving  me  as  innocent  of  the  classics  in  the 
original  as  Field.  But,  unlike  Field,  when  our 
fortunes  threw  us  together,  I  had  kept  up  a  close 
and  continuous  reading  and  study  of  English  lan 
guage  and  literature.  The  early  English  period 
had  always  interested  me,  and  we  had  not  been 
together  for  two  months  before  Field  was  inocu 
lated  with  a  ravenous  taste  for  the  English  litera 
ture  of  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries.  Its 
quaintness  and  the  unintentional  humor  of  its 


HIS  LITERAKY   EDUCATION          275 

simplicity  cast  a  spell  over  him,  which  he  neither 
sought  nor  wished  to  escape.  He  began  with  the 
cycle  of  romances  that  treat  of  King  Arthur  and 
his  knights,  and  followed  them  through  their  prose 
and  metrical  versions  of  the  almost  undecipher 
able  Saxon  English  to  the  polished  and  perfect 
measure  of  the  late  English  laureate.  For  three 
years  Mallory's  "  History  of  King  Arthur  and  of 
the  Knights  of  the  Round  Table  "  was  the  delight 
of  his  poetic  soul  and  the  text-book  for  his  con 
versation  and  letters,  and  its  effect  was  traceable 
in  almost  every  line  of  his  newspaper  work. 
Knights,  damosells,  paynims,  quests,  jousts,  and 
tourneys,  went  "  rasing  and  trasing  "  through  his 
manuscript,  until  some  people  thought  he  was  pos 
sessed  with  an  archaic  humor  from  which  he  would 
never  recover. 

But  Sir  Thomas  Mallory  was  not  his  only  diet 
at  this  time.  He  discovered  that  the  old-book 
corner  of  A.  C.  McClurg  &  Co.'s  book-store  was 
a  veritable  mine  of  old  British  ballads,  and  he  be 
gan  sipping  at  that  spring  which  in  a  few  years 
was  to  exercise  such  a  potent  influence  on  his  own 
verse.  It  was  from  this  source  that  he  learned 
the  power  of  simple  words  and  thoughts,  when 
wedded  to  rhyme,  to  reach  the  human  heart.  His 
"  Little  Book  of  Western  Verse "  would  never 


276  EUGENE    FIELD 

have  possessed  its  popular  charm  had  not  its 
author  taken  his  cue  from  the  "  Grand  Old  Mas 
ters."  He  caught  his  inspiration  and  faultless 
touch  from  studying  the  construction  and  the  pur 
pose  of  the  early  ballads  and  songs,  illustrative  of 
the  history,  traditions,  and  customs  of  the  knights 
and  peasantry  of  England.  Where  others  were 
content  to  judge  of  these  in  such  famous  specimens 
as  "  Chevy  Chase  "  and  "  The  Nut  Brown  Maid," 
Field  delved  for  the  true  gold  in  the  neglected 
pages  of  Anglo-Saxon  chronicle  and  song.  He 
did  not  waste  much  time  on  the  unhealthy  pro 
ductions  of  the  courtiers  of  the  time  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  but  chose  the  ruder  songs  of  the  bards, 
whose  hearts  were  pure  even  if  their  thoughts  were 
sometimes  crude,  their  speech  blunt,  and  their 
metre  queer.  Who  cannot  find  suggestions  for  a 
dozen  of  Field's  poems  in  this  single  stanza  from 
"  Lady  Anne  BothwelPs  Lament  " : 

Balow,  my  lobe,  lye  still  and  sleipe! 
It  grieves  me  sair  to  see  thee  weipe: 
If  tJwust  be  silent  Ise  be  glad, 
Thy  maining  males  my  heart  ful  sad. 
Balow,  my  boy,  thy  mother's  joy, 
Thy  father  breides  me  great  annoy. 

Balow,  my  babe,  ly  still  and  sleipe, 
It  grieves  me  sair,  to  see  thee  weipe. 


HIS  LITERARY  EDUCATION          277 

Or  where  could  writer  go  to  a  better  source  for 
inspiration  than  to  ballads  preserving  in  homely 
setting  such  gems  as  this,  from  "  Bartham's 
Dirge": 

They  buried  Mm  at  mirk  midnight, 

When  the  dew  fell  cold  and  still, 
When  the  aspin  gray  forgot  to  play, 

And  the  mist  clung  to  the  hill. 
When  you  have  mingled  the  simple,  bald,  and 
often  beautiful  pathos  of  this  old  balladry  with  the 
fancies  of  fairy-land  which  Field  invented,  or  bor 
rowed  from  Hans  Andersen's  tales,  you  have  the 
key  to  much  of  the  best  poetry  and  prose  he  ever 
wrote.  The  secret  of  his  undying  attachment  to 
Bonn's  Standard  Library  was  that  therein  he 
found  almost  every  book  that  introduced  him  to 
the  masters  of  the  kind  of  English  literature  that 
most  appealed  to  him.  Here  he  unearthed  the 
best  of  the  ancients  in  literal  English  garb,  from 
^Eschylus  to  Xenophon,  to  say  nothing  of  a  dic 
tionary  of  Latin  and  of  Greek  quotations  done  into 
English  with  an  index  verborum.  More  to  the 
purpose  still,  Bohn  put  into  his  hands  Smart's 
translation  of  Horace,  "  carefully  revised  by  an 
Oxonian."  In  the  cheap,  uniform  green  cloth  of 
Bohn,  he  fell  in  with  Percy's  "  Keliques  of  Ancient 
English,"  Bell's  "  Ballads  and  Songs  of  the  Peas- 


278  EUGENE   FIELD 

antry  of  England,"  Bede's  "  Ecclesiastical  His 
tory,"  Marco  Polo's  "  Travels,"  Keightly's  "  Fairy 
Mythology,"  and  renewed  his  acquaintance  with 
Andersen's  "  Danish  Legends  and  Fairy  Tales," 
and  Grimm's  "  Fairy  Tales,"  and  last,  but  not  least, 
with  one  of  the  best  editions  of  Isaac  "Walton's 
"  Complete  Angler,"  wherein  he  did  some  of  his 
best  fishing. 

It  has  been  a  common  impression  that  Field  was 
attracted  to  the  old-book  corner  of  McClurg's  store 
by  the  old  and  rare  books  displayed  there.  These 
were  not  for  him,  as  he  had  not  then  learned  that 
bibliomania  could  be  made  to  put  money  in  his 
purse  or  to  wing  his  shafts  of  irony  with  feathers 
from  its  favorite  nest.  He  went  to  browse  among 
the  dark  green  covers  of  Bohn  and  remained  years 
after  to  prey  upon  the  dry  husks  of  the  biblio 
maniacs. 

Among  the  cherished  relics  of  those  days  there 
lies  before  me  as  I  write  "  The  Book  of  British 
Ballads,"  edited  by  S.  C.  Hall,  inscribed  on  the 
title  page: 

"  Forsan  et  haec  olim  meminisse  juvabit." 

To  Slason  Thompson 

from 

Eugene  Field. 
Christmas,  1885. 


HIS  LITERARY  EDUCATION          279 

This  volume  Field  had  picked  up  in  some  second 
hand  book-store  for  a  quarter  or  a  dime.  He  had 
erased  the  pencilled  name  of  the  original  owner 
on  the  fly-leaf  and  had  written  mine  and  the  date 
over  it  in  ink.  Then  turning  to  the  inside  of  the 
back  cover  he  had  rubbed  out  the  price  mark  and 
ostentatiously  scrawled  "  $2.50."  This  "  doctor 
ing  "  of  price  marks  was  a  favorite  practice  of 
Field's,  perfectly  understood  among  his  friends  as 
a  token  of  affectionate  humor  and  never  dreamed 
of  as  an  attempt  at  deception.  By  such  means  he 
added  zest  to  the  exchange  of  those  mementoes  of 
friendship,  which  were  never  forgotten  as  Christ 
mas-tide  rolled  round,  to  the  end  of  the  chapter. 
The  day  has  indeed  come  when  it  is  "  a  pleasure  to 
remember  these  things." 

The  Latin  motto  on  this  particular  copy  of 
ballads  reminds  me,  among  other  pleasant  memo 
ries,  that  during  the  year  1885  there  came  into 
Field's  life  and  mine  an  intimate  friendship  that 
was  to  exercise  a  more  potent  influence  on  Field's 
literary  bent  than  anything  in  his  experience.  I 
have  before  me  the  following  description  of  "  The 
Frocked  Host  of  Watergrasshill  " : 

Prout  had  seen  much  of  mankind,  and,  in  his  de 
portment  through  life,  showed  that  he  was  well  versed 
in  all  those  varied  arts  of  easy,  but  still  gradual,  ac- 


280  EUGENE   FIELD 

quirement  which  singularly  embellished  the  inter 
course  of  society:  these  were  the  results  of  his 
excellent  continental  education — 

IIoXXwv  8'  av6pu>TT<DV  iSov  aorea,  xai  roov  eyi/<o 

But  at  the  head  of  his  own  festive  board  he  par 
ticularly  shone;  for,  though  in  ministerial  functions 
he  was  exemplary  and  admirable,  ever  meek  and  un 
affected  at  the  altar  of  his  rustic  chapel,  where 

" His  looks  adorned  the  venerable  place" 

still,  surrounded  by  a  few  choice  friends,  the  calibre 
of  whose  genius  was  in  unison  with  his  own,  with  a 
bottle  of  his  choice  old  claret  before  him,  he  was  truly 
a  paragon. 

Substitute  a  physician  for  the  priest;  change  the 
scene  from  the  neighborhood  of  the  Blarney  stone 
to  a  basement  chop  and  oyster  house  in  Chicago; 
instead  of  a  continental  education  give  him  an 
American  experience  as  a  surgeon  in  the  Civil 
War,  in  the  hospitals  of  Cincinnati,  and  on  the 
yellow  fever  commission  that  visited  Memphis  in 
1867,  and  you  have  the  Dr.  Frank  W.  Eeilly,  to 
whom  Field  owed  more  than  to  all  the  schools, 
colleges,  and  educational  agencies  through  which 
he  had  flitted  from  his  youth  up.  When  I  first 
knew  Dr.  Reilly  he  was  Secretary  of  the  Illinois 
State  Board  of  Health,  located  at  Springfield, 


DR    FRANK   W.   REILLY. 


HIS  LITERARY  EDUCATION          281 

and  an  occasional  correspondent  of  the  Chicago 
Herald.  The  State  of  Illinois  owes  to  him  its 
gradual  rescue  from  a  dangerous  laxity  in  the 
matter  of  granting  medical  licenses,  until  to-day 
the  requirements  necessary  to  practise  his  profes 
sion  in  this  state  compare  favorably  with  those  of 
any  other  state  of  the  Union.  Shortly  after  I 
went  from  the  Herald  to  the  News,  as  related  in 
a  previous  chapter,  Dr.  Keilly  changed  his  cor 
respondence  to  the  latter  paper.  In  1885  he  re 
signed  his  position  on  the  State  Board  of  Health, 
and,  coming  to  Chicago,  formed  an  editorial  con 
nection  with  the  News  that  continued  until  he  was 
appointed  Deputy  Commissioner  of  Health  for 
Chicago.  In  this  last  position,  which  he  occupies 
to-day,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  he  has  done 
more  to  promote  its  health,  cleanliness,  and  conse 
quent  happiness,  than  any  other  single  citizen  of 
Chicago.  If  the  sanitary  canal  was  not  his  child, 
it  was  pushed  to  completion  through  the  fostering 
hand  of  his  adoption.  The  Lincoln  Park  Sani 
tarium  for  poor  children,  and  other  similar  agen 
cies  exploited  by  the  Daily  News,  were  born  of  his 
suggestions  and  were  nurtured  by  his  personal 
supervision.  It  is  impossible,  and  would  be  out 
of  place  here,  to  specify  what  Dr.  Reilly  has  done 
for  the  sanitation  of  Chicago  as  Chief  Deputy  in 


282  EUGENE    FIELD 

the  Health  Office.  Administrations  may  come 
and  go.  Would  that  he  could  sip  the  elixir  of 
life,  that  he  might  go  on  forever ! 

On  his  occasional  visits  to  Chicago,  before  he 
came  up  here  for  good,  Dr.  Reilly  had  become  a 
welcome  guest  and  sometimes  host  in  our  midnight 
round-ups  at  the  Boston  Oyster  House,  and  when 
he  made  his  home  here  he  was  taken  into  regular 
fellowship.  The  regulars  then  were  Field,  Bal- 
lantyne,  Reilly,  and  I — with  Mr.  Stone,  Willis 
Hawkins,  a  special  writer  on  the  News,  Morgan 
Bates,  Paul  Hull,  a  sketch  writer  who  fancied  he 
looked  like  Lincoln  and  told  stories  that  would 
have  made  Lincoln  blush  to  own  a  faint  resem 
blance,  and  Cowen  when  in  town,  to  say  nothing 
of  "  visiting  statesmen  "  and  play-actors  as  occa 
sional  visitors  and  contributors  to  the  score.  Some 
insight  into  the  characters  of  the  four  regulars 
may  be  gained  from  the  statement  that  Field  in 
variably  ordered  coffee  and  apple  pie,  Ballantyne 
tea  and  toast  with  oysters,  Dr.  Reilly  oysters  and 
claret,  and  I  steak  and  Bass's  ale. 

It  was  during  these  meetings  that  Field  caught 
from  Dr.  Reilly's  frequent  unctuous  quotations 
his  first  real  taste  for  Horace.  To  two  works  the 
doctor  was  impartially  devoted,  the  "  Noctes  Am- 
brosianae  "  and  "  The  Reliques  of  Father  Prout." 


HIS   LITERARY   EDUCATION          283 

He  never  wearied  of  communion  with  the  classical 
father,  or  of  literary  companionship  with  Chris 
topher  North,  Timothy  Tickler,  and  the  Ettrick 
Shepherd.  We  never  sat  down  to  pie  or  oysters 
that  his  imagination  did  not  transform  that  Chi 
cago  oyster  house  into  Ambrose's  Tavern,  the 
scene  of  the  feasts  and  festivities  of  table  and  con 
versation  of  the  immortal  trio.  But  though  the 
doctor  enjoyed  association  with  Kit  North  and  the 
voluble  Shepherd,  it  was  for  the  garrulous  Father 
Prout,  steeped  in  the  gossip  and  learning  of  the 
ancients,  that  he  reserved  his  warmest  love  and 
veneration.  So  saturated  and  infatuated  was  the 
doctor  with  this  fascinating  creation  of  Francis 
Mahony's,  that  he  inoculated  Field  with  his  devo 
tion,  and  before  we  knew  it  the  author  of  the 
Denver  Tribune  Primer  stories  was  suffering  from 
a  literary  disease,  to  the  intoxicating  pleasure  of 
which  he  yielded  himself  without  reservation. 

To  those  who  wish  to  understand  the  effect  of 
this  inspiration  upon  the  life  and  writings  of 
Eugene  Field,  but  who  have  not  enjoyed  familiar 
acquaintance  with  the  celebrated  Prout  papers, 
some  description  of  this  work  of  Francis  Mahony 
may  not  be  amiss.  He  was  a  Roman  Catholic 
priest,  educated  at  a  Jesuit  college  at  Amiens,  who 
had  lived  and  held  positions  in  France,  Switzer- 


284  EUGENE    FIELD 

land,  and  Ireland.  It  was  while  officiating  at  the 
chapel  of  the  Bavarian  Legation  in  London  that 
he  began  contributing  the  Prout  papers  to  Eraser's 
Magazine.  These  consisted  of  fanciful  narratives, 
each  serving  as  a  vehicle  for  the  display  of  his 
wonderful  polyglot  learning,  and  containing  trans 
lations  of  well-known  English  songs  into  Latin, 
Greek,  French,  and  Italian  verse,  which  later  he 
seriously  represented  as  the  true  originals  from 
which  the  English  authors  had  boldly  plagiarized. 
He  also  introduced  into  his  stories  the  songs  of 
France  and  Italy  and  felicitous  translations,  none 
of  which  were  better  than  those  from  Horace. 
His  command  of  the  various  languages  into  which 
he  rendered  English  verse  was  extraordinary,  and 
his  translations  were  so  free  and  spirited  in 
thought  and  diction  as  to  excite  the  admiration  of 
the  best  scholars.  When  it  is  said  that  his  trans 
lations  of  French  and  Latin  odes  preserved  their 
poetical  expression  and  sentiments  with  the  free 
dom  of  original  composition  almost  unequalled  in 
English  translations,  the  exceptional  character  of 
Father  Prout's  work  will  be  appreciated.  Ac 
companying  these  English  versions  there  was  a 
running  commentary  of  semi-grave,  but  always 
humorous,  criticism.  Of  Francis  Mahony's  ac 
knowledged  poems,  the  "  Bells  of  Shandon  "  is 


HIS  LITERARY   EDUCATION          285 

the  best  known.  In  the  Prout  papers,  while  his 
genius  finds  its  chief  expression  in  fantastic  in 
vention  and  sarcastic  and  cynical  wit,  it  is  every 
where  sweetened  by  gentle  sentiments  and  an 
unfailing  fund  of  human  nature  and  kindly 
humor. 

"  Front's  translations  from  Horace  are  too  free 
and  easy,"  solemnly  said  the  London  Athenseum, 
reviewing  them  as  they  came  out  more  than  sixty 
years  ago.  And  no  wonder,  for  Prout  invented 
Horatian  odes  that  he  might  translate  them  into 
such  rollicking  stanzas  as  Burns's  "  Green  Grow 
the  Rashes,  O!  " 

That  Field,  at  the  time  of  which  I  am  writing 
(1885),  had  quite  an  idea  of  following  in  the  wake 
of  Father  Prout  may  be  indicated  by  the  follow 
ing  Latin  jingle  written  in  honor  of  his  friend, 
Morgan  Bates,  who,  with  Elwin  Barron,  had  writ 
ten  a  play  of  western  life  entitled  "  The  Mountain 
Pink."  It  was  described  as  a  "  moral  crime,"  and 
had  been  successfully  staged  in  Chicago. 

MAECENAS 

Mons!  aliusque  cum  nobis, 

Illicet  tibi  feratum, 
Quid,  ejusmodi  licec  vobis, 

Hunc  aliquando  erratum. 


286  EUGENE    FIELD 

Esse  futurus  fuisse, 

Melior  optimus  vates? 
Quamquam  amo  amavisse — 

Bonum  ad  Barron  et  Bates! 

Gloria,  Mons!    sempiturnus, 

Jupiter,  Pluvius,  Juno, 
Itur  ad  astra  diurnus, 

Omnes  et  ceteras  um! 

Fratres!  cum  bibite  vino, 

Moralis,  criminis  fates, 
Montem  hie  vita  damfino — 

Hie  vita  ad  Barron  et  Bates. 

A  very  slight  knowledge  of  Latin  verse  is 
needed  to  detect  that  this  has  no  pretence  to  Latin 
composition  such  as  Father  Mahony's  scholarship 
caracoled  in,  but  is  merely  English  masquerading 
in  classical  garb. 

Father  Prout  also  introduced  Field  to  fellow 
ship  with  Beranger,  the  national  song  writer  of 
France,  to  whom,  next  to  the  early  English  ballad- 
ists  and  Horace,  he  owes  so  much  of  that  clear, 
simple,  sparkling  style  that  has  given  his  writings 
enduring  value.  Beranger's  description  of  him 
self  might,  with  some  modifications,  be  fitted  to 
Field:  "I  am  a  good  little  bit  of  a  poet,  clever 


HIS  LITERAEY  EDUCATION  287 

in  the  craft,  and  a  conscientious  worker,  to  whom 
old  airs  have  brought  some  success."  Beranger 
chose  to  sing  for  the  people  of  France,  Field 
for  the  children  of  the  world.  Field  caught  his 
fervor  for  Beranger  from  the  enthusiasm  of 
Prout. 

"  I  cannot  for  a  moment  longer,"  wrote  he,  "  re 
press  my  enthusiastic  admiration  for  one  who  has 
arisen  in  our  days  to  strike  in  France  with  a  mas 
ter  hand  the  lyre  of  the  troubadour  and  to  fling 
into  the  shade  all  the  triumphs  of  bygone  min 
strelsy.  Need  I  designate  Beranger,  who  has 
created  for  himself  a  style  of  transcendent  vigor 
and  originality,  and  who  has  sung  of  war,  love,  and 
wine,  in  strains  far  excelling  those  of  Blondel, 
Tyrtseus,  Pindar,  and  the  Tei'an  bard.  He  is  now 
the  genuine  representative  of  Gallic  poesy  in  her 
convivial,  her  amatory,  her  warlike  and  her  philo 
sophic  mood;  and  the  plenitude  of  the  inspiration 
that  dwelt  successively  in  the  souls  of  all  the 
songsters  of  ancient  France  seems  to  have  trans 
migrated  into  Beranger  and  found  a  fit  recipient 
in  his  capacious  and  liberal  mind." 

That  Field  caught  the  inspiration  of  Beranger 
more  truly  than  Father  Prout,  those  who  question 
can  judge  for  themselves  by  a  comparison  of  their 
respective  versions  of  "  Le  Yiolon  Brise  " — the 


288  EUGENE   FIELD 

broken  fiddle.     A  stanza  by  each  must  suffice  to 
show  the  difference: 

BERANGEB 

Viens,  mon  chien!  viens,  ma  pauvre  bete! 

Mange,  malgre,  mon  desespoir. 
II  me  reste  un  gateau  de  fete — 

Demain  nous  aurons  du  pain  noir! 

PROUT 

My  poor  dog!  here!  of  yesterday's  festival-cake 

Eat  the  poor  remains  in  sorrow; 
For  when  next  a  repast  you  and  I  shall  make, 
It  must  be  on  brown  bread,  which,  for  charity's  sake, 
Your  master  must  beg  or  borrow. 

FIELD 

There,  there,  poor  dog,  my  faithful  friend, 
Pay  you  no  heed  unto  my  sorrow: 

But  feast  to-day  while  yet  we  may, — 

Who  knows  but  we  shall  starve  to-morrow! 

The  credit  for  verbal  literalness  of  translation 
is  with  Prout,  but  the  spirit  of  the  fiddler  of 
Beranger  glows  through  the  free  rendition  of 
Field. 

The  reader  of  Eugene  Field's  works  will  find 
scant  acknowledgment  of  his  indebtedness  to 
Father  Francis  Mahony,  but  there  are  many  ex- 


FATHER  PROUT." 

Francis  Mahony. 


HIS  LITERARY  EDUCATION          289 

pressions  of  his  love  and  admiration  for  the  friend 
who  introduced  him  to  the  scholar,  wit,  and  phi 
losopher,  by  whose  ways  of  life  and  work  his  own 
were  to  be  so  shaped  and  tinged.  Among  these 
my  scrap-books  afford  three  bits  of  verse  which 
indicate  in  different  degrees  the  esteem  in  which 
"  the  genial  dock  "  of  our  comradeship  was  held 
by  his  associates  as  well  as  by  Field.  The  first 
was  written  in  honor  of  the  doctor's  silver  wed 
ding: 

TO  DR.  FRANK  W.  REILLY 

If  I  were  rich  enough  to  buy 

A  case  of  wine  (though  I  abhor  it !) 
I'd  send  a  case  of  extra  dry, 

And  willingly  get  trusted  for  it. 
But,  lack  a  day !  you  know  that  I'm 

As  poor  as  Job's  historic  turkey — 
In  lieu  of  Mumm,  accept  this  rhyme, 

An  honest  gift,  though  somewhat  jerky. 

This  is  your  silver-wedding  day — 

You  didn't  mean  to  let  me  know  it ! 
And  yet  your  smiles  and  raiment  gay 

Beyond  all  peradventure  show  it! 
By  all  you  say  and  do  it's  clear 

A  birdling  in  your  breast  is  singing, 
And  everywhere  you  go  you  hear 

The  old-time  bridal  bells  a-ringing. 
VOL.  I.— 19 


290  EUGEXE    FIELD 

Ah,  well,  God  grant  that  these  dear  chimes 

May  mind  you  of  the  sweetness  only 
Of  those  far-distant  callow  times 

When  you  were  bachelor  and  lonely — 
And  when  an  angel  blessed  your  lot — 

For  angel  is  your  helpmate,  truly — 
And  when  to  share  the  joy  she  brought, 

Came  other  little  angels  duly. 

So  here's  a  health  to  you  and  wife: 

Long  may  you  mock  the  reaper's  warning, 
And  may  the  evening  of  your  life 

In  rising  Sons  renew  the  morning; 
May  happiness  and  peace  and  love 

Come  with  each  morrow  to  caress  ye; 
And  when  you've  done  with  earth,  above — 

God  bless  ye,  dear  old  friend — God  bless  ye! 

The  second  is  of  a  very  different  flavor  and 
shows  Field  indulging  in  that  play  of  personal 
persiflage,  in  which  he  took  a  never-flagging 
pleasure.  It  has  no  title  and  was  written  in 
pencil  on  two  sheets  of  rough  brown  paper: 

The  Dock  he  is  a  genial  friend, 
He  frequently  has  cash  to  lend; 
He  writes  for  Rauch,  and  on  the  pay 
He  sets  'em  up  three  times  a  day. 
Oh,  how  serenely  I  would  mock 
My  creditors,  if  1  were  Dock. 


HIS  LITEEARY  EDUCATION          291 

The  Cow  en  is  a  lusty  lad 
For  whom  the  women-folks  go  mad; 
He  has  a  girl  in  every  block — 
Herein,  methinks,  tie  beats  the  Dock — 
Yes,  if  the  choice  were  left  to  me 
A  lusty  Cowen  I  would  be. 

Yet  were  I  Cowen,  where,  oh,  where 
Would  be  my  Julia,  plump  and  fair? 
And  where  would  be  those  children  four 
Which  now  I  smilingly  adore  ? 
The  thought  induces  such  a  shock, 
I'd  not  be  Cowen — I'd  be  Dock! 

But  were  I  Dock,  with  stores  of  gold, 
How  would  I  pine  at  being  old — 
How  grieve  to  see  in  Cowen  s  eyes 
That  amorous  fire  which  age  denies — 
Oh,  no,  I'd  not  be  Dock  forsooth, 
I'd  rather  be  the  lusty  youth. 

Nor  Dock,  nor  Cowen  would  I  be, 
But  such  as  God  hath  fashioned  me; 
For  I  may  now  tvith  maidens  fair 
Assume  I'm  Cowen  debonnair, 
Or,  splurging  on  a  borrowed  stock, 
I  can  imagine  I'm  the  Dock. 

The  last  tribute  which  I  quote  from  Field  to  his 
school-master,  literary  guide,  and  friend  is  credited 
to  the  "  Wit  of  the  Silurian  Age,"  and  is  accom- 


292  EUGENE    FIELD 

panied  by  a  drawing  by  the  poet,  who  took  a  cut 
from  some  weekly  of  the  day  and  touched  it  up 
with  black,  red,  and  green  ink  to  represent  the 
genial  "  Dock  "  seated  in  an  arm-chair  before  a 
cheery  fire,  with  the  inevitable  claret  bottle  on  a 
stand  within  easy  reach  and  a  glass  poised  in  his 
hand  ready  for  the  sip  of  a  connoisseur,  while  the 
devotee  of  Eat  North  and  Father  Prout  beamed 
graciously  at  you  through  his  glasses: 

Said  Field  to  Dr.  Eeilly,  "  You 

Are  like  the  moon,  for  you  get  brighter 

When  you  get  full,  and  it  is  true 

Your  heavy  woes  thereby  grow  lighter/' 

"  And  you''  the  Doctor  answer  made, 
"  Are  like  the  moon  because  you  borrow 

The  capital  on  which  you  trade — 
As  I'm  acquainted,  to  my  sorrow!  " 

"  'Tis  true  I'm  like  the  moon,  I  know," 
Replied  the  poor  but  honest  wight, 

"  For,  journeying  through  this  vale  of  woe, 
I  borrow  oft,  but  always  light!" 

But  Field's  acknowledgments  of  an  ever-increas 
ing  debt  of  gratitude  to  Dr.  Reilly  were  not  con 
fined  to  privately  circulated  tokens  of  affection  and 
friendship,  as  the  following  stanzas,  printed  in  his 
column  in  the  News,  in  February,  1889,  testify: 


HIS  LITERARY  EDUCATION          293 

TO   F.    W.   E.   AT   6   P.M. 

My  friend,  Maecenas  and  physician, 

Is  in  so  grumpy  a  condition 

I  really  more  than  half  suspicion 

He  nears  his  end; 

Who  then  would  be  on  earth  to  shave  me, 
To  feed  me,  coach  me,  and  to  save  me 
From  tedious  cares  that  would  enslave  me — 

Without  this  friend? 

Nay,  fate  for  fend  such  wild  disaster! 

May  I  play  Pollux  to  his  Castor 

Thro'  years  that  bind  our  hearts  the  faster 

With  golden  tether; 
And  every  morbid  fear  releasing, 
May  our  affection  bide  unceasing — 
With  every  salary  raise  increasing — 

Then  die  together! 

Finally,  Dr.  Eeilly  is  the  Dr.  O'Rell  of  "  The 
Love  Affairs  of  a  Bibliomaniac,"  whom  Field  play 
fully  credits  with  prescribing  one  or  the  other — 
the  Noctes  or  the  Reliques — to  his  patients,  no  mat 
ter  what  disease  they  might  be  afflicted  with.  He 
prescribed  them  to  both  of  us,  and  Field  took  to 
his  bed  with  the  Reliques  and  did  not  get  up  until 
he  had  "  comprehended  "  the  greater  part  of  its 
five  hundred  and  odd  pages  of  perennial  literary 
stimulant. 


CHAPTEK  XV 

METHOD  OF  WORK 

• 

Although  Eugene  Field  was  the  most  unconven 
tional  of  writers,  there  was  a  method  in  all  his  ways 
that  made  play  of  much  of  his  work.  No  greater 
mistake  was  ever  made  than  in  attributing  his 
physical  break-down  to  exhaustion  from  his  daily 
grind  in  a  newspaper  office.  No  man  ever  made 
less  of  a  grind  than  he  in  preparing  copy  for  the 
printer.  He  seldom  arrived  at  the  office  before 
eleven  o'clock  and  never  settled  down  to  work  be 
fore  three  o'clock.  The  interim  was  spent  in  put 
tering  over  the  exchanges,  gossiping  with  visitors, 
of  whom  he  had  a  constant  stream,  quizzing  every 
other  member  of  the  staff,  meddling  here,  chaffing 
there,  and  playing  hob  generally  with  the  orderly 
routine  of  affairs.  He  was  a  persistent,  insistent, 
irrepressible  disturber  of  everything  but  the  good- 
fellowship  of  the  office,  to  which  he  was  the  chief 
contributor.  No  interruption  from  Field  ever  came 
or  was  taken  amiss.  From  the  hour  he  ambled 

laboriously  up  the  steep  and  narrow  stairs,  anathe- 
294 


METHOD  OF  WORK  295 

matizing  them  at  every  step,  in  every  tone  of  mock 
ery  and  indignation,  to  the  moment  he  sat  down 
to  his  daily  column  of  "  leaded  agate,  first  line 
brevier,"  no  man  among  us  knew  what  piece  of 
fooling  he  would  be  up  to  next. 

Something  was  wrong,  Field  was  out  of  town, 
or  some  old  crony  from  Kansas  City,  St.  Louis,  or 
Denver  was  in  Chicago,  if  about  one  o'clock  I  was 
not  interrupted  by  a  summons  from  him  that  the 
hour  for  luncheon  had  arrived.  Although  I  was 
at  work  within  sound  of  his  voice,  these  came 
nearly  always  in  the  form  of  a  note,  delivered  with 
an  unvarying  grin  by  the  office-boy,  who  would 
drop  any  other  errand,  however  pressing,  to  do 
Field's  antic  bidding.  These  notes  were  generally 
flung  into  the  waste-paper  basket,  much  to  my 
present  regret,  for  of  themselves  they  would  have 
made  a  most  remarkable  exhibit.  Sometimes  the 
summons  would  be  in  the  form  of  a  bar  of  music 
like  this  which  I  preserved: 


n 


•£ 


^y.is- w  ,    v 

A'^ff      \     t  T   b    pvF 
0    g   j   J^  Jrj  J 


296  EUGENE    FIELD 

But  more  often  it  was  a  note  in  the  old  English 
manner,  which  for  years  was  affected  between  us, 
like  this  one: 

PUISSANT  AND  TRIUMPHANT  LORD  : 

By  my  halidom  it  doth  mind  me  to  hold  discourse 
with  thee.  Come  thou  privily  to  my  castle  beyond 
the  moat,  an'  thou  wilt. 

In  all  fealty,  my  liege, 
Thy  gentle  vassal, 
His  Mark.  THE  GOOD  KNIGHT. 

Or,  going  down  to  the  counting-room,  he  would 
summon  a  messenger  to  mount  the  stairs  with  a 
formal  invitation  like  this: 

SIR  SLOSSON  : 

The  Good  but  Impecunious  Knight  bides  in  the 
business  office,  and  there  soothly  will  he  tarry  till  you 
come  anon.  So  speed  thee,  bearing  with  thee  ducats 
that  in  thy  sweet  company  and  by  thy  joyous  courtesy 
the  Good  Knight  may  be  regaled  with  great  and 
sumptuous  cheer  withal. 

THE  GOOD  KNIGHT. 

Then  out  we  would  sally  to  the  German  restau 
rant  around  the  corner,  where  the  coffee  was  good, 
the  sandwiches  generous,  and  the  pie  execrable.  If 
there  was  a  German  cook  in  Chicago  who  could 
make  good  pies  we  never  had  the  good  fortune  to 
find  him. 


METHOD  OF  WORK 


297 


Having  regaled  ourselves  with  this  sumptuous 
cheer  to  "  repletion,"  we  would  walk  three  blocks 
to  McClurg's  book-store  and  replenish  our  stock  of 


CLO^) 


0 


i 

From  a  drawing  by  Eugene  Field. 


298  EUGENE    FIELD 

English,  sacred  and  profane,  defiled  and  undefiled. 
I  am  writing  now  of  the  days  before  Field  made 
the  old-book  department  famous  throughout  the 
country  as  the  browsing  ground  of  the  biblioma 
niacs.  After  loitering  there  long  enough  to  digest 
our  lunches  and  to  nibble  a  little  literature,  we 
would  retrace  our  steps  to  the  office,  where  Field 
resumed  his  predatory  actions  until  he  was  ready 
to  go  to  work.  Then  peace  settled  on  the  establish 
ment  for  about  three  hours.  If  any  noisy  visitor 
or  obstreperous  reporter  in  the  local  room  did  any 
thing  to  disturb  the  "  literary  atmosphere  "  that 
brooded  around  the  office,  Field  would  bang  on  the 
tin  gong  hanging  over  his  desk  until  all  other  noises 
sank  into  dismayed  silence.  Then  he  would  resume 
"  sawing  wood  "  for  his  "  Sharps  and  Flats." 

If  Field  had  not  quite  worked  off  his  surplus 
stock  of  horse-play  on  his  associates,  he  would  vent 
it  upon  the  compositor  in  some  such  apostrophe  as 
the  following: 

By  my  troth,  I'll  now  begin  tcr 

Cut  a  literary  caper 

On  this  pretty  tab  of  paper 
For  the  homey-handed  printer; 

I  expect  to  hear  him  swearing 

That  these  inks  are  very  wearing 
On  his  oculary  squinter. 


METHOD  OF  WORK  299 

Or  tins: 

We  desire  to  announce  that  Mademoiselle  Rhea,  the 
gifted  Flanders  maid,  who  has  the  finest  wardrobe 
on  the  stage,  will  play  a  season  of  bad  brogue  and  flash 
dresses  in  this  city  very  soon.  This  announcement, 
however,  will  never  see  the  dawn  of  November  13th, 
and  we  kiss  it  a  fond  farewell  as  we  cheerfully  sub 
mit  it  as  a  sop  to  Cerberus. 

Field  had  a  theory  that  Ballantyne,  the  manag 
ing  editor,  would  not  consider  that  he  was  earning 
his  salary,  and  that  Mr*  Stone  would  not  think  that 
he  was  exercising  the  full  authority  of  editorship, 
unless  something  in  his  column  was  sacrificed  to 
the  blue  pencil  of  a  watchful  censorship.  Coupled 
with  this  was  the  more  or  less  cunning  belief  that 
it  was  good  tactics  to  write  one  or  two  outrageously 
unprintable  paragraphs  to  draw  the  fire,  so  to  speak, 
of  the  blue  pencil,  and  so  to  divert  attention  from 
something,  about  which  there  might  be  question, 
which  he  particularly  wished  to  have  printed.  Bal 
lantyne,  as  I  have  said,  was  a  very  much  more 
exacting  censor  than  Stone,  for  the  reason  that  the 
humor  of  a  story  or  paragraph  often  missed  his 
Scotch  literalness,  while  Stone  never  failed  to  let 
anything  pass  on  that  score. 

By  six  o'clock  Field's  writing  for  the  day  was 


300  EUGENE    FIELD 

done,  and  he  generally  went  home  for  dinner.  But 
that  this  was  not  always  the  case  the  following 
notes  testify: 

GOOD  AND  GENTLE  KNIGHT  : 

If  so  be  ye  pine  and  so  hanker  after  me  this  night 
I  pray  you  come  anon  to  the  secret  lair  near  the  moat 
on  the  next  floor,  and  there  you  will  eke  descry  me. 
There  we  will  discourse  on  love  and  other  joyous 
matters,  and  until  then  I  shall  be,  as  I  have  ever 

been, 

Your  most  courteous  friend, 

E.  FIELD. 

An'  it  please  the  good  and  gentle  knight,  Sir  Slos- 
son  Thompson,  his  friend  in  very  sooth,  the  honest 
knight  will  arrive  at  his  castle  this  day  at  the  8th 
hour,  being  minded  to  partake  of  Sir  Slosson's  cheer 
and  regale  him  with  the  wealth  of  his  joyous  dis 
course. 

THE  GOOD  KNIGHT. 

Five  nights  out  of  the  week  Field  spent  some 
part  of  the  evening  at  one  of  the  principal  theatres 
of  the  town,  of  which  at  that  time  there  were  five. 
He  was  generally  accompanied  by  Mrs.  Field  and 
her  sister,  Miss  Comstock,  who  subsequently  be 
came  Mrs.  Ballantyne.  When  it  was  a  family 
party,  Ballantyne  and  I  would  join  it  about  the 


METHOD  OF  WORK  301 

last  act,  and  there  was  invariably  a  late  supper 
party,  which  broke  up  only  in  time  for  the  last 
north-bound  car.  When  Field  was  a  self-invited 
guest  with  any  of  his  intimates  at  dinner  the  party 
would  adjourn  for  a  round  of  the  theatres,  ending 
at  that  one  where  the  star  or  leading  actor  was 
most  likely  to  join  in  a  symposium  of  steak  and 
story  at  Billy  Boyle's  English  chop-house.  This 
resort,  on  Calhoun  Place,  between  Dearborn  and 
Clark  Streets,  was  for  many  years  the  most  famous 
all-night  eating-house  in  Chicago.  For  chops  and 
steaks  it  had  not  its  equal  in  America,  possibly  not 
in  the  world.  Long  after  we  had  ceased  to  fre 
quent  Boyle's,  so  long  that  our  patronage  could  not 
have  been  charged  with  any  share  in  the  catas 
trophe,  it  went  into  the  hands  of  the  sheriff.  This 
afforded  Field  an  opportunity  to  write  the  following 
sympathetic  and  serio-whimsical  reminiscence  of  a 
unique  institution  in  Chicago  life: 

It  is  unpleasant  and  it  is  hard  to  think  of  Billy 
Boyle's  chop-house  as  a  thing  of  the  past,  for  that 
resort  has  become  so  closely  identified  with  certain 
classes  and  with  certain  phases  of  life  in  Chicago 
that  it  seems  it  must  necessarily  keep  right  on  for 
ever  in  its  delectable  career.  We  much  prefer  to 
regard  its  troubles  as  temporary,  and  to  believe  that 
presently  its  hospitable  doors  will  be  thrown  open 


302  EUGENE    FIELD 

again  to  the  same  hungry,  appreciative  patrons  who 
for  so  many  years  have  partaken  of  its  cheer. 

When  the  sheriff  asked  Billy  Boyle  the  other  day 
where  the  key  to  the  door  was,  Billy  seemed  to  feel 
hurt.  What  did  Billy  know  about  a  key,  and  what 
use  had  he  ever  found  for  one  in  that  hospitable  spot, 
whither  famished  folk  of  every  class  gravitated  nat 
urally  for  the  flying  succor  of  Billy's  larder  ? 

"  The  door  never  had  a  key,"  said  Billy.  "  Only 
once  in  all  the  time  I  have  been  here  has  the  place 
been  closed,  and  then  it  was  but  four  hours." 

Down  in  New  Orleans  there  is  a  famous  old  saloon 
called  the  Sazeraz.  For  fifty-four  years  it  stood  open 
to  the  thirsty  public.  Then  the  City  Council  passed 
a  Sunday-closing  ordinance,  and  with  the  enforce 
ment  of  this  law  came  the  discovery  that  through  in 
nocuous  desuetude  the  hinges  of  the  doors  to  the 
Sazeraz  had  rusted  off,  while  the  doors  themselves 
had  become  so  worm-eaten  that  they  had  to  be  re 
placed  by  new  ones.  The  sheriff  who  pounced  down 
on  Billy  Boyle's  in  his  official  capacity  must  have 
fancied  he  had  struck  a  second  Sazeraz,  for  the  lock 
upon  the  door  was  so  rusty  and  rheumatic  through 
disuse  that  it  absolutely  refused  to  respond  to  the 
persuasion  of  the  keys  produced  for  the  performance 
of  its  functions.  We  cannot  help  applauding  the 
steadfastness  with  which  this  lock  resented  the  in 
dignity  which  the  official  visit  of  the  sheriff  implied. 

If  we  were  to  attempt  to  make  a  roster  of  the 


METHOD  OF  WORK  303 

names  of  those  who  have  made  the  old  chop-house 
their  Mecca  in  seasons  of  hunger  and  thirst,  we  could 
easily  fill  a  page.  So,  although  you  may  have  never 
visited  the  place  yourself,  it  is  easy  for  you  to  un 
derstand  that  many  are  the  associations  and  reminis 
cences  which  attached  to  it.  There  was  never  any 
attempt  at  style  there;  the  rooms  were  unattractive, 
save  for  the  savory  odors  which  hung  about  them; 
the  floors  were  bare,  and  the  furniture  was  severe  to 
the  degree  of  rudeness.  There  was  no  china  in  use 
upon  the  premises;  crockery  was  good  enough;  men 
came  there  to  feed  their  stomachs,  not  their  eyes. 

Boyle's  was  a  resort  for  politicians,  journalists, 
artists,  actors,  musicians,  merchants,  gamblers,  pro 
fessional  men  generally,  and  sporting  men  specially. 
Boyle  himself  has  always  been  a  lover  of  the  horse 
and  a  patron  of  the  turf;  naturally,  therefore,  his 
restaurant  became  the  rendezvous  of  horsemen,  so 
called.  Upon  the  walls  there  were  colored  prints, 
which  confirmed  any  suspicion  which  a  stranger 
might  have  of  the  general  character  of  the  place,  and 
the  mise  en  scene  differed  in  no  essential  feature  from 
that  presented  in  the  typical  chop-house  one  meets 
in  the  narrow  streets  and  by-ways  of  "  dear  ol' 
Lunnon ! " 

It  is  likely  that  Boyle's  has  played  in  its  quiet  w#y 
a  more  important  part  in  the  history  of  the  town 
than  you  might  suppose.  It  was  here  that  the  law 
yers  consulted  with  their  clients  during  the  noon 
luncheon  hour;  politicians  came  thither  to  confer 


304  EUGENE    FIELD 

with  one  another  and  to  devise  those  schemes  by 
which  parties  were  to  be  humbugged.  It  was  here 
that  the  painter  and  the  actor  discussed  their  re 
spective  arts;  here,  too,  in  the  small  hours  of  morn 
ing,  the  newspaper  editor  and  reporters  gathered 
together  to  dismiss  professional  cares  and  jealousies 
for  the  nonce,  and  to  feed  in  the  most  amicable  spirit 
from  the  same  trough.  Jobs  were  put  up,  coups 
planned,  reconciliations  effected,  schemes  devised, 
combinations  suggested,  news  exploited  and  scandals 
disseminated,  friendships  strengthened,  acquaint 
ances  made — all  this  at  Billy  Boyle's — so  you  see  it 
would  have  been  hard  to  find  a  better  field  in  which 
to  study  human  nature,  for  hither  came  people  of 
every  class  and  kind  with  their  ambitions,  hopes,  pur 
poses,  and  eccentricities. 

The  glory  of  the  house  of  Boyle  was  the  quality  of 
viands  served  there,  and  nowhere  else  in  the  world 
was  it  possible  to  find  finer  steaks  and  chops.  These 
substantials  were  served  with  a  liberality  that  would 
surely  have  astounded  those  who  did  not  understand 
that  the  patrons  of  Billy  Boyle's  were  men  blest  with 
long  appetites  and  robust  digestions.  Spanish  stew 
was  one  of  the  specialties;  so  were  baked  potatoes, 
and  so  were  Spanish  roasted  onions.  It  was  the  cus- 
ton  to  sit  and  smoke  after  the  meal  had  been  dis 
posed  of,  and  the  quality  of  the  cigars  sold  in  the 
place  was  the  best;  at  night  particularly — say  after 
the  newspaper  clans  began  to  gather — Boyle's  wore 


METHOD  OF  WORK  305 

the  aspect  of  a  smoke-talk  in  full  blast.  Harmony 
invariably  prevailed.  If,  perchance,  any  discordant 
note  was  sounded  it  was  speedily  hushed.  Charlie, 
the  man  behind  the  bar,  had  a  way  of  his  own  of 
preserving  the  peace.  He  was  a  gentleman  of  a  few 
words,  slow  to  anger,  but  sure  of  wrath.  Experience 
had  taught  him  that  the  best  persuasive  to  respectful 
and  reverential  order  was  a  spoke  of  a  wagon-wheel. 
One  of  these  weapons  lay  within  reach,  and  it  never 
failed  to  restore  tranquillity  when  produced  and 
wielded  at  the  proper  moment  by  Charlie.  The  con 
sequence  was  that  Charlie  inspired  all  good  men  with 
respect  and  all  evil  men  with  terror,  and  the  result 
was  harmony  of  the  most  enjoyable  character.  Per 
haps  if  Charlie  had  been  on  watch  when  that  horrid 
sheriff  arrived  on  his  meddlesome  errand,  Billy 
Boyle's  might  still  be  open  to  the  rich  and  the  poor 
who  now  meet  together  in  that  historic  alley  and  be 
moan  the  passing  of  their  old  point  of  rendezvous. 
Perhaps — but  why  indulge  in  surmises?  It  is  pleas- 
anter  to  regard  this  whole  disagreeable  sheriff  busi 
ness  as  an  episode  that  is  soon  to  pass  away  and  to 
be  forgotten,  if  not  forgiven. 

Surely  the  clouds  will  roll  by;  surely  you,  Sep- 
timius,  and  you,  Tuliarchus  mine,  will  presently 
gather  with  others  of  the  old  cronies  around  the  hos 
pitable  board  of  that  genial  host  to  renew  once  more 
the  delights  of  days  and  nights  endeared  to  us  in 
memory ! 

VOL.  I.— 20 


306  EUGENE    FIELD 

Billy  Boyle's  succumbed  to  his  love  for  the  race 
track  and  the  abuse  of  his  credit-check  system. 
Field  has  mentioned  gamblers  as  among  the  patrons 
of  the  place.  After  midnight  they  were  his  most 
liberal  customers.  Winning  or  losing,  their  appe 
tites  were  always  on  edge  and  their  tastes  epicu 
rean.  Nothing  the  house  could  afford  was  too 
good  for  them,  and,  while  Charlie  was  on  deck, 
what  the  house  could  afford  was  good  enough  for 
them,  whether  they  thought  so  or  not.  During 
the  '80s  Chicago  was  a  gamblers'  paradise.  Every 
thing  was  run  "  wide  open,"  as  the  saying  is,  under 
police  regulation  and  protection,  and  Billy  Boyle's 
was  in  the  very  centre  of  the  gambling  district. 
If  Billy  had  been  paid  cash,  and  could  have  been 
kept  away  from  the  race-tracks,  he  would  have 
grown  rich  beyond  the  terrors  of  the  sheriff. 
While  the  gamblers  were  winning  they  supped 
like  princes  and  paid  like  goldsmiths.  When  they 
were  losing  their  losses  whetted  their  appetites, 
they  ate  to  keep  their  spirits  up,  and  Billy's  spin 
dles  were  not  long  enough  to  hold  their  waiters' 
checks.  In  flush  times  a  goodly  percentage  of  these 
checks  were  redeemed,  but  the  reckoning  of  the 
bad  ones  at  the  bottom  grew  longer  and  dirtier  and 
more  hopeless,  until  it  brought  the  sheriff. 

We  of  the  Morning  News — Field,  Stone,  Ballan- 


METHOD  OF  WORK  307 

tyne,  Reilly,  and  I — frequented  Boyle's  until  the 
war  which  the  paper  waged  unceasingly  upon  the 
league  between  the  city  administration  and  the 
gamblers  brought  about  a  stricter  surveillance  of 
gaming,  and  we  came  to  be  regarded  by  our  fellow- 
guests  as  interlopers,  if  not  spies,  upon  their  goings 
in  and  out.  Neither  Boyle  nor  the  ever  faithful 
Charlie  ever  by  word  or  sign  intimated  that  we 
were  personce  non  grata?,  but  the  atmosphere  of  the 
place  became  too  chilly  for  the  enjoyment  of  late 
suppers. 

I  have  devoted  so  much  space  to  Billy  Boyle's 
because  for  several  years  Field  found  there  the  best 
opportunity  of  his  life  "  to  study  human  nature  " 
and  observe  the  "  ambitions,  hopes,  purposes,  and 
eccentricities  "  of  his  fellow-man. 

After  the  "  pernicious  activity  "  of  our  news 
paper  work  had  "  put  the  shutters  up  "  against  us 
in  Calhoun  Place,  we  transferred  our  midnight  cus 
tom  to  the  Boston  Oyster  House,  on  the  corner  of 
Clark  and  Madison  streets,  which  Field  selected 
because  of  the  suggestion  of  baked  beans,  brown 
bread,  and  codfish  in  its  name.  Here  we  were  as 
signed  a  special  table  in  the  corner  near  the  grill 
range,  and  here  we  were  welcomed  along  about 
twelve  o'clock  by  the  cheerful  chirping  of  a  cricket 
in  the  chimney,  which  Field  had  a  superstition  was 


308  EUGENE    FIELD 

intended  solely  for  him.  The  Boston  Oyster  House 
had  the  advantage  over  Billy  Boyle's  that  here  we 
could  bring  "  our  women  folks  "  after  the  theatre 
or  concert.  It  was  through  a  piece  of  doggerel, 
composed  and  recited  by  Field  with  great  gusto 
on  one  of  these  occasions,  that  we  first  learned  of 
the  serious  attentions  of  our  managing  editor  to 
Mrs.  Field's  youngest  sister.  One  of  these  stanzas 
ran  thus: 

A  quart  taken  out  of  the  ice-box, 

A  dozen  'broiled  over  the  fire. 
Then  home  from  the  show 
With  her  long-legged  beau, 

What  more  can  our  sister  desire  f 

But  the  ladies  were  never  invited  to  invade  the 
cricket's  corner,  where  we  were  permitted  to  be 
guile  the  hours  in  gossip,  song,  and  story  until  the 
scrub-women  had  cleaned  the  rest  of  the  big  base 
ment  and  "  the  first  low  swash  "  of  the  suds  and 
brush  threatened  the  legs  of  our  chairs.  Then,  with 
a  parting  anathema  on  the  business  of  slaves  that 
toiled  when  honest  folk  should  be  abed,  we  would 
ascend  the  stairs  and  betake  ourselves  to  our  sev 
eral  homes.  It  was  at  the  Boston  that  Field  varied 
his  diet  of  pie  and  coffee  with  what  he  was  pleased 
to  describe  as  "  the  staying  qualities  as  well  as  the 
pleasing  aspect  of  a  Welsh  rabbit." 


METHOD  OF  WORK  309 

During  the  first  years  of  his  connection  with  the 
Morning  News,  Field  worked  without  intermission 
six  days  of  the  week,  without  a  vacation  and,  except 
when  he  transferred  his  scene  of  operations  to  the 
capitol  at  Springfield,  without  leaving  Chicago — 
with  two  noteworthy  exceptions.  For  some  reason 
Field  had  taken  what  the  Scotch  call  a  scunner  to 
ex-President  Hayes,  whom  he  regarded  as  a  polit 
ical  Pecksniff.  The  refusal  of  Mr.  Hayes  while 
President  to  serve  wine  in  the  White  House 
Field  regarded  as  a  cheap  affectation,  and  so  when, 
through  his  numerous  sources  of  information,  he 
learned  that  Mr.  Hayes  derived  a  part  of  his  in 
come  from  saloon  property  in  Omaha,  nothing 
would  do  Field  but,  accompanied  by  the  staff  artist, 
he  must  go  to  Omaha  and  investigate  himself  the 
story  for  the  News. 

He  went,  found  the  facts  were  as  represented, 
and  returned  with  the  proofs  and  a  photograph 
of  himself  sitting  on  a  beer-keg  in  a  saloon  owned 
by  Rutherford  B.  Hayes.  He  also  bought  the  keg, 
and  out  of  its  staves  had  a  frame  made  for  the 
picture,  which  he  presented  to  Mr.  Ballantyne. 

His  other  notable  absence  from  Chicago  in  those 
days  was  also  connected  with  ex-President  Hayes. 
This  time  it  involved  a  visit  to  the  latter's  home 
at  Fremont,  O.  In  all  his  frequent  references  to 


310  EUGENE   FIELD 

Mr.  Hayes,  Field  had  always  spoken  of  Mrs.  Hayes 
with  sincere  admiration  for  her  womanly  qualities 
and  convictions.  So  long  as  these  were  confined 
to  the  ordering  of  her  personal  household  he  deemed 
them  as  sacred  as  they  were  admirable.  Nor  did  he 
blame  her  for  attempting  to  extend  them  to  rule 
the  actions  of  her  husband  in  his  public  relations. 
But  it  was  for  permitting  this  that  Mr.  Hayes 
earned  the  scorn  of  Field.  When  President  Hayes 
retired  from  the  White  House  to  Fremont,  instead 
of  becoming  another  Cincinnatus  at  the  plough  he 
was  overshadowed  by  the  stories  of  Mrs.  Hayes's 
devotion  to  her  chicken-farm,  and  the  incongruity  of 
the  occupation  appealed  so  strongly  to  Field's  sense 
of  the  ridiculous  that  he  prevailed  on  Mr.  Stone 
to  let  him  go  down  to  Fremont  to  take  in  its  full 
absurdity  with  his  own  eyes. 

Before  going  to  Omaha,  Field  had  taken  the  pre 
caution  to  write  enough  "  Sharps  and  Flats  "  to 
fill  his  column  until  he  returned — a  precaution  he 
omitted  when  he  started  for  Fremont,  on  the  un 
derstanding  that  his  associates  on  the  editorial  page 
would  do  his  work  for  him.  This  was  our  oppor 
tunity,  and  gladly  we  availed  ourselves  of  it.  The 
habit  had  grown  on  Field  of  introducing  his 
paragraphic  skits  with  such  "  country  journal- 


METHOD  OF  WORK  311 

"  We  opine," 

"  Anent  the  story," 

"  We  are  free  to  admit," 

"  We  violate  no  confidence," 

"  It  is  stated,  though  not  authoritatively," 

"  Our  versatile  friend," 

"  We  learn  from  a  responsible  source,"  and 

"  Our  distinguished  fellow-townsman." 

This  he  accompanied  with  a  lavish  bestowal 
of  titles  that  would  have  done  credit  to  the  most 
courtly  days  of  southern  chivalry. 

So  when  Field  was  safely  off  for  Fremont  we 
started  to  produce  a  column  that  would  be  a  trav 
esty  on  his  favorite  expressions  at  the  expense  of 
his  titled  friends.  We  opined  and  violated  all  the 
confidences  of  which  we  were  possessed  in  regard 
to  Colonel  Phocion  Howard,  of  the  Batavia  frog- 
farm,  Major  Moses  P.  Handy,  the  flaming  sword 
of  the  Philadelphia  Press,  Senator  G.  Frisbie  Hoar, 
Major  Charles  Hasbrook,  Colonel  William  E.  Cur 
tis,  Colonel  John  A.  Joyce,  Colonel  Fred  W.  Nye, 
Major  E.  Clarence  Stedman,  and  Colonels  Dana, 
Watterson,  and  Halstead,  and  we  exhausted  the 
flowers  of  Field's  vocabulary  in  daring  encomiums 
on  Madame  Modjeska,  Lotta,  Minnie  Maddern, 
and  Marie  Jansen.  If  any  of  Field's  particular 
friends  were  omitted  from  "  favorable  mention  "  in 


312  EUGENE   FIELD 

that  column,  it  was  because  we  forgot  or  Mr. 
Stone's  blue  pencil  came  to  the  rescue  of  his  absent 
friend.  Ballantyne  was  party  to  the  conspiracy, 
because  he  had  often  remonstrated  against  the  rut 
of  expression  into  which  Field  was  in  danger  of 
falling. 

When  Field  returned  that  one  column  had 
driven  all  thoughts  of  Mrs.  Hayes's  hens  from  his 
thoughts.  There  was  a  cold  glitter  in  his  pale  blue 
eyes  and  a  hollow  mock  in  the  forced  "  ha,  ha  " 
with  which  he  greeted  some  of  our  "  alleged  efforts 
at  wit."  He  said  little,  but  a  few  days  later  re 
lieved  his  pent-up  feelings  by  printing  the  fol 
lowing: 

MAY  THE  26th,  1885 

As  when  the  bright,  the  ever-glorious  sun 

In  eastern  slopes  lifts  up  his  -flaming  head, 
And  sees  the  harm  the  envious  night  has  done 

While  he,  the  solar  orb,  has  been  abed — 
Sees  here  a  yawl  wrecked  on  the  slushy  sea, 

Or  there  a  chestnut  from  its  roost  blown  down, 
Or  last  year's  birds'  nests  scattered  on  the  lea, 

Or  some  stale  scandal  rampant  in  the  town — 
Sees  everywhere  the  petty  work  of  night, 

Of  sneaking  winds  and  cunning,  coward  rats, 
Of  hooting  owls,  of  bugaboo  and  sprite, 

Of  roaches,  wolves,  and  serenading  cats — 


METHOD  OF  WORK  313 

Beholds  and  smiles  that  bagatelles  so  small 

Should  seek  to  devastate  the  slumbering  earth — 
Then  smiling  still  he  pours  on  one  and  all 

The  warmth  and  sunshine  of  his  grateful  mirth; 
So  he  who  rules  in  humor's  vast  domain, 

Borne  far  away  by  some  Ohio  train, 
Returns  again,  like  some  recurring  sun. 

And  shining,  God-like,  on  the  furrowed  plain 
Repairs  the  ills  that  envious  hands  have  done. 

But  the  daring  violation  of  Field's  confidence 
effected  its  purpose.  Never  again  did  he  employ 
the  type-worn  expressions  of  country  journalism, 
except  with  set  prepense  and  self-evident  satire. 
He  shunned  them  as  he  did  an  English  solecism, 
which  he  never  committed,  save  as  a  decoy  to  draw 
the  fire  of  the  ever-watchful  and  hopeless  gram 
matical  purist. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
NATURE  OF  HIS  DAILY   WORK 

In  the  last  chapter  I  have  told  in  general  terms 
how  Field  employed  himself  day  by  day,  from 
which  the  reader  may  form  the  impression  that  be 
tween  eleven  A.M.  and  midnight  not  over  one- 
quarter  of  his  time  was  actually  employed  in  work, 
the  balance  being  frittered  away  in  seeming  play. 
In  one  sense  the  reader  would  be  right  in  such 
an  inference.  Field  worked  harder  and  longer  at 
his  play  than  at  what  the  world  has  been  pleased 
to  accept  as  the  work  of  a  master  workman,  but 
out  of  that  play  was  born  the  best  of  all  that  he 
has  left.  His  daily  column  was  a  crystallization 
of  the  busy  fancies  that  were  running  through  his 
head  during  all  his  hours  of  fooling  and  nights  of 
light-hearted  pleasure.  It  reflected  everything  he 
read  and  heard  and  saw.  It  was  a  "  barren  sea 
from  which  he  made  a  dry  haul " — a  dreary  and 
colorless  gathering  that  left  him  without  material 
for  his  pen.  He  did  not  hunt  for  this  material 
with  a  brass  band,  but  went  for  it  with  studied  per 
sistence. 

314 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       315 

Field  never  believed  that  he  was  sent  into  the 
world  to  reform  it.  His  aim  was  to  amuse  himself, 
and  if  in  so  doing  he  entertained  or  gratified  others, 
so  much  the  better.  "  Reform  away,"  he  was  once 
reported  as  saying,  "  reform  away,  but  as  for  me, 
the  world  is  good  enough  for  me  as  it  is.  I  am  a 
thorough  optimist.  In  temperament  I'm  a  little 
like  old  Horace — I  want  to  get  all  the  happiness 
out  of  the  world  that's  possible."  And  he  got  it, 
not  intermittently  and  in  chunks,  but  day  by  day 
and  every  hour  of  the  day. 

His  brother  Roswell  has  said  that  the  "  curse  of 
comedy  was  on  Eugene,"  and  "  it  was  not  until  he 
threw  off  that  yoke  and  gave  expression  to  the  better 
and  sweeter  thoughts  within  him  that,  as  with  Bion, 
the  voice  of  song  flowed  freely  from  the  heart." 

I  do  not  think  it  is  quite  fair  to  regard  com 
edy  as  a  curse  or  a  yoke.  Certainly  Eugene 
Field  never  suffered  under  the  blight  of  the  one 
nor  staggered  under  the  burden  of  the  other.  If 
there  is  any  curse  in  comedy,  unadulterated  by 
lying,  malice,  or  envy,  he  never  knew  it.  He  knew 
— none  better — that  the  author  who  would  com 
mand  the  tears  that  purify  and  sweeten  life  must 
move  the  laughter  that  lightens  it.  What  says  our 
Shakespeare  ? — 


316  EUGENE    FIELD 

Jog  on,  jog,  on  the  foot-path  way, 
And  merrily  hent  the  stile-a, 

A  merry  heart  goes  all  the  day, 
Your  sad  tires  in  a  mile-a. 

Eugene  Field  trod  the  footpath  way  to  popu 
larity  and  fame  with  a  buoyant  and  merry  heart. 
If  there  was  any  abatement  of  his  joyous  spirits  I 
never  knew  it,  and  I  do  not  think  that  his  writ 
ings  disclose  any  sweeter  strain,  as  his  brother  sug 
gests,  in  the  days  when  ill-health  checked  the  ardor 
of  his  boyish  exuberance,  but  could  not  dim  the 
unextinguishable  flame  of  his  comedy.  The  two 
books  that  contain  what  to  the  last  he  considered 
his  choicest  work — a  judgment  confirmed  by  their 
continued  popularity  and  sale,  "  A  Little  Book 
of  Western  Verse  "  and  "  A  Little  Book  of  Profit 
able  Tales  "  —  were  compiled  from  the  writings 
(1878-1887)  that  flowed  from  his  pen  when  he 
worshipped  most  assiduously  at  the  shrine  of  the 
goddess  of  comedy  and  social  intercourse. 

I  have  been  tempted  into  this  digression  in  order 
that  the  reader  may  not  be  at  a  loss  to  reconcile 
the  apparent  frivolity  of  Field's  life  and  the  mass 
of  his  writings  at  this  period  with  the  winnowed 
product  as  it  appeared  in  the  two  volumes  just  men 
tioned.  Out  of  the  comedy  of  his  nature  came  the 
sweetness  of  his  work,  and  out  of  his  association 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       317 

with  all  conditions  of  his  fellow-men  came  that 
insight  into  the  springs  of  human  passion  and 
action  that  leavens  all  that  he  wrote,  from  "  The 
Eobin  and  the  Violet  "  (1884)  down  to  "  The  Love 
Affairs  of  a  Bibliomaniac  "  (1895). 

The  general  character  of  Eugene  Field's  life  and 
writing  went  through  a  gradual  process  of  evolu 
tion  from  the  time  of  his  arrival  in  Chicago  to  the 
final  chapters  of  "  The  Love  Affairs,"  which  were 
his  last  work.  But  it  can  be  safely  divided  into 
two  periods  of  six  years  each,  with  the  turning 
point  at  the  publication  of  his  little  books  of  verse 
and  tales  in  the  year  1889.  Nearly  all  that  he 
wrote  previous  to  that  year  was  marked  by  his  as 
sociation  with  his  kind;  that  which  he  wrote  sub 
sequently  was  saturated  with  his  closer  association 
with  books.  About  all  the  preparation  he  needed 
for  his  daily  "  wood-sawing  "  was  a  hurried  glance 
through  the  local  papers  and  his  favorite  exchanges, 
among  which  the  New  York  Sun  held  first  place, 
with  the  others  unplaced.  He  insisted  that  the 
exchange  editor  should  send  to  his  desk  daily  a 
dozen  or  more  small  country  sheets  from  the  most 
out  of  the  way  places — papers  that  recorded  the 
painting  of  John  Doe's  front  fence  or  that  Seth 
Smith  laid  an  egg  on  the  editor's  table  with  a 
breezy  "  come  again,  Seth,  the  Lord  loveth  a  cheer- 


318  EUGENE   FIELD 

ful  liar."  When  Field  had  accumulated  enough 
of  these  items  to  suit  his  humor,  he  would  para 
phrase  them,  and,  substituting  the  names  of  local 
or  national  celebrities,  as  the  incongruity  tickled 
his  fancy,  he  would  print  them  in  his  column  un 
der  the  heading  of  local,  social,  literary,  or  indus 
trial  notes,  as  the  case  might  be.  He  seldom 
changed  the  form  of  these  borrowed  paragraphs 
materially,  for  he  held  most  shrewdly  that  no  hu 
morist  could  improve  upon  the  unconscious  humor 
of  the  truly  rural  scribe.  Field  never  outgrew  the 
enjoyment  and  employment  of  this  distinctively 
American  appreciation  of  humor.  As  late  as  Oc 
tober  29th,  1895,  "  The  Love  Affairs  "  had  to  wait 
while  he  regaled  the  readers  of  the  Chicago  Record 
with  his  own  brand  of  "  Crop  Reports  from  East 
Minonk,"  of  which  the  following  will  serve  as 
specimens : 

All  are  working  to  get  in  the  corn  crop  as  if  they 
never  expected  to  raise  another  crop.  The  schools 
are  almost  deserted,  and  even  the  schoolm'ams  may 
•yet  be  drafted  in  as  huskers.  As  the  season  ad 
vances  the  farmers  begin  to  realize  the  immensity  of 
the  crop,  and  the  dangers  and  difficulties  of  handling 
it.  Owing  to  its  cumbersomeness  the  old-fashioned 
way  of  handling  it  becomes  obsolete,  and  new 
methods  will  have  to  be  adopted  and  hydraulic  ma- 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       319 

chinery  procured.  Many  new  uses  can  be  made  of 
the  corn-stalks,  such  as  flag-poles  for  school-houses, 
telegraph  poles  and  sewer-pipes.  By  hollowing  out 
a  corn-stalk  it  will  make  the  very  best  of  windmill 
towers,  as  the  plunger-rod  can  be  placed  inside,  thus 
protecting  it  from  the  weather,  and  if  desired,  an 
excellent  fountain  can  be  obtained  by  perforating  the 
joints  with  an  awl. 

A  freight  train  on  the  Santa  Fe  railroad  was  de 
layed  four  hours  last  Saturday  by  a  corn-stalk  in  Jake 
Schlosser's  field,  which  had  been  undermined  by 
hogs,  falling  across  the  track.  It  was  removed  with 
a  crane  and  considerable  difficulty  by  the  wrecking 
crew. 

The  town  of  Hegler,  on  the  Kankakee,  Minonk  and 
Western  railroad,  is  invisible  in  a  forest  of  corn.  A 
search  party  under  the  direction  of  the  road  commis 
sioners  are  looking  for  it. 

These  solemnly  exaggerated  crop  notes  were 
strung  out  to  the  extent  of  over  half  a  column. 
Some  will  question  the  wit  of  such  fantastic  ex 
travagance,  but  Field  had  early  learned  the  truth 
of  Puck's  exclamation:  "Lord,  what  fools  these 
mortals  be !  "  He  knew  that  there  was  absolutely 
no  bounds  to  the  gullibility  of  mankind,  and  he 
felt  it  a  part  of  his  mission  to  cater  to  it  to  the  top 


320  EUGENE   FIELD 

of  its  bent.  One  of  his  most  successful  imposi 
tions  was  international  in  its  scope.  On  September 
13th,  1886,  the  following  paragraph,  based  on  the 
current  European  news  of  the  day,  appeared  in  his 
column: 

We  do  not  see  that  Prince  Alexander,  the  deposed 
Bulgarian  monarch,  is  going  to  have  very  much  diffi 
culty  in  keeping  the  wolf  away  from  the  door.  In 
addition  to  the  income  from  a  $2,000,000  legacy,  he 
has  a  number  of  profitable  investments  in  America 
which  he  can  realize  upon  at  any  time.  He  owns 
considerable  real  estate  in  Chicago,  Kansas  City, 
Denver,  and  Omaha,  and  he  is  a  part  owner  of  one 
of  the  largest  ranches  in  New  Mexico.  His  American 
property  is  held  in  the  name  of  Alexander  Marie 
Wilhelm  Ludwig  Maraschkoff,  and  his  interests  in 
this  country  are  looked  after  by  Colonel  J.  S.  Nor 
ton,  the  well-known  attorney  of  this  city.  Colonel 
Norton  tells  us  that  he  would  not  be  surprised  if 
Prince  Alexander  were  to  come  to  this  country  to 
live.  In  a  letter  to  Colonel  Norton  last  June  the 
Prince  said :  "  If  ever  it  is  in  divine  pleasure  to  re 
lease  us  from  the  harassing  responsibilities  which 
now  rest  upon  us,  it  will  be  our  choice  to  find  a  home 
in  that  great  country  beyond  the  Atlantic,  where, 
removed  from  the  intrigues  of  court  and  state,  we 
may  enjoy  that  quiet  employment  and  peaceful  medi 
tation  for  which  we  have  always  yearned." 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       321 

Now  it  must  be  confessed  that  this  bears  a  suf 
ficient  air  of  verisimilitude  to  deceive  the  casual 
reader.  It  is  as  perfect  a  specimen  of  the  pure  in 
vention  which  Field  delighted  to  deck  out  in  the 
form  of  truth  with  facts  and  the  names  of  real 
personages  as  he  ever  wrote.  In  that  year  not  only 
Englishmen,  but  other  foreigners,  were  investing  in 
American  real  estate.  James  S.  Norton  was  indeed 
a  well-known  attorney  of  Chicago,  as  he  deserved 
to  be  for  his  wit  and  professional  ability.  He  was 
on  such  friendly  terms  with  Field  that  the  latter 
thought  nothing  of  taking  any  liberty  he  pleased 
with  his  name  whenever  it  served  to  lend  credibility 
to  an  otherwise  unconvincing  narrative.  In  sub 
sequent  paragraphs  Field  answered  fictitious  in 
quiries  as  to  Mr.  Norton's  reality  by  giving  his 
actual  address,  with  the  result  that  Mr.  Norton  was 
pestered  with  correspondence  from  all  over  the 
union  offering  opportunities  to  invest  Prince  Alex 
ander's  funds. 

But  the  success  of  this  hoax  was  not  confined  to 
the  American  side  of  the  Atlantic,  as  the  follow 
ing  paragraph  from  London  Truth  shortly  after 
proves : 

I  gave  some  particulars  a  few  weeks  ago  of  the 
large  amount  of  property  which  had  been  extracted 
VOL.  I.— 21 


322  EUGENE    FIELD 

from  Bulgaria  by  Prince  Alexander,  who  arrived  at 
Sofia  penniless,  except  for  a  sum  of  money  which  was 
advanced  to  him  by  the  late  Emperor  of  Russia.  It 
is  now  asserted  by  the  American  papers  that  Prince 
Alexander  has  made  considerable  purchases  under  an 
assumed  name  (Alexander  Marie  Wilhelm  Ludwig 
Maraschkoff )  of  real  estate  in  Chicago,  Denver,  Kan 
sas  City,  and  Omaha,  and  that  he  is  part  owner  of 
one  of  the  largest  sheep  ranches  in  New  Mexico. 
The  Prince's  property  in  America  is  under  the  charge 
of  Colonel  Norton,  a  well-known  attorney  of  Chicago. 
Prince  Alexander  must  be  possessed  of  a  true  Yankee 
cuteness  if  he  managed  to  squeeze  the  "  pile  "  for 
these  investments  out  of  Bulgaria  in  addition  to  the 
£70,000  to  which  I  referred  recently.  The  Russian 
papers  have  accused  him  of  dabbling  in  stock  ex 
change  speculations,  and  if  disposed  for  such  busi 
ness,  his  position  must  have  given  him  some  excellent 
opportunities  of  making  highly  profitable  bargains. 

Thus  was  Prince  Alexander  convicted  of  having 
burglarized  Bulgaria  upon  an  invention  which 
should  not  have  deceived  Mr.  Labouchere.  How 
that  ostentatiously  manufactured  alias  ever  im 
posed  on  Truth  passes  comprehension.  Is  it  any 
wonder  that  at  one  of  our  numerous  mid-day 
lunches  "Colonel"  Norton  fired  the  following 
rhyming  retort  at  Field? — 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       323 

TO  EUGENE  FIELD 

Forgive,  dear  youth,  the  forwardness 
Of  her  who  blushing  sends  you  this, 

Because  she  must  her  love  confess, 
Alas!  Alas!  A  lass  she  is. 

Long,  long,  so  long,  her  timid  heart 

Has  held  its  joy  in  secrecy, 
Being  by  nature's  cunning  art 

So  made,  so  made,  so  maidenly. 

She  knew  you  once,  but  as  a  pen 
In  humor  dipt  in  wisdom's  pool, 

And  gladly  gave  her  homage  then 
To  one,  to  one,  too  wonderful; 

But  having  seen  your  face,  so  mild, 

So  pale,  so  full  of  animus, 
She  can  but  cry  in  accents  wild, 

Eugene!  Eugene!  You  genius! 

The  deep  and  abiding  interest  Field  felt  in  the 
fortunes  of  Prince  Alexander  may  be  inferred 
from  his  exclamation,  "  When  Stofsky  meets  Etro- 
vitch,  then  comes  the  tug  of  Servo-Bulgarian  war!  " 

He  took  no  end  of  pleasure  in  starting  discus 
sions  over  the  authorship  of  verses  and  sayings  by 
wilfully  attributing  them  to  persons  whose  mere 
name  in  such  connection  conveyed  the  sense  of 
humorous  impossibility,  and  he  thoroughly  enjoyed 


324  EUGENE    FIELD 

such  suggestions  being  taken  seriously.  Once  hav 
ing  started  the  ball  of  doubt  rolling  he  never  let 
it  stop  for  want  of  some  neat  strokes  of  his  cunning 
pen.  Several  noteworthy  instances  of  this  form  of 
literary  diversion  or  perversion  occur  to  me.  There 
never  was  any  occasion  to  doubt  the  authorship  of 
"The  Lost  Sheep,"  which  won  for  Sally  Pratt 
McLean  wide  popular  recognition  a  decade  and  a 
half  ago.  Its  first  stanza  will  recall  it  to  the 
memory  of  all: 

De  massa  of  de  sheep  fol' 

Dat  guard  de  sheep  fol'  'bin, 
Look  out  in  de  gloomerin  meadows 

Whar  de  long  night  rain  begin — 
So  he  call  to  de  hirelinf  shepa'd, 

"  Is  my  sheep,  is  dey  all  come  in  ?  " 
Oh,  den  says  de  hirelin'  shepa'd, 

"  Dey' s  some,  dey's  black  and  thin, 
And  some,  dey's  po'ol'  wedda's, 

But  de  res'  dey's  all  brung  in — 

But  de  res'  dey's  all  brung  in. 

The  very  notoriety  of  the  authorship  of  these 
lines  merely  served  as  an  incentive  for  Field  to  print 
the  following  paragraph  calling  it  in  question: 

Miss  Sally  McLean,  author  of  "  Cape  Cod  Folks," 
claims  to  have  written  the  dialect  poem,  "  Massa  of 
de  Sheep  Fold,"  which  the  New  York  Sun  pronounces 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       325 

a  poetic  masterpiece.  We  dislike  to  contradict  Miss 
McLean,  but  candor  compels  us  to  say  that  we  have 
reason  to  believe  that  she  is  not  the  author  of  the 
stanzas  in  question.  According  to  the  best  of  our 
recollection,  this  poem  was  dashed  off  in  the  wine- 
room  of  the  Gault  House,  at  Louisville,  Ky.,  by 
Colonel  John  A.  Joyce,  from  ten  to  twenty  years  ago. 
Joyce  was  in  the  midst  of  a  party  of  convivial  friends. 
After  several  cases  of  champagne  had  been  tossed 
down,  a  member  of  the  party  said  to  Colonel  Joyce, 
"  Come,  old  fellow,  give  us  an  extempore  poem."  As 
Colonel  Joyce  had  not  utilized  his  muse  for  at  least 
twenty  minutes,  he  cordially  assented  to  the  proposi 
tion,  and  while  the  waiter  was  bringing  a  fresh  sup 
ply  of  wine  Colonel  Joyce  dashed  off  the  dialect  poem 
so  highly  praised  by  the  New  York  Sun.  We  are 
amazed  that  he  has  laid  no  claim  to  its  authorship 
since  its  revival.  Unfortunately,  all  the  gentlemen 
who  were  present  at  the  time  he  dashed  off  the  poem 
are  dead,  or  there  would  be  no  trouble  in  substantiat 
ing  his  claims  to  its  authorship.  We  distinctly  re 
member  he  wrote  it  the  same  evening  he  dashed  off 
the  pretty  poem  so  violently  claimed  by,  and  so  gen 
erally  accredited  to,  Mrs.  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox. 

This  was  written  in  February,  1885,  and  though 
it  failed  of  its  ostensible  aim  of  discrediting  Miss 
McLean's  authorship  of  "  The  Lost  Sheep,"  it  suc 
ceeded  in  rekindling  throughout  the  exchanges  the 


326  EUGENE    FIELD 

smouldering  fires  of  the  dispute  Field  had  himself 
started  over  that  of  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox's  "  Soli 
tude,"  the  relevant  verse  of  which  runs: 

Laugh,  and  the  world  laughs  with  you; 

Weep,  and  you  weep  alone, 
For  the  sad  old  earth  must  borrow  its  mirth, 

But  has  troubles  enough  of  its  own. 
Sing,  and  the  hills  will  answer; 

Sigh,  it  is  lost  on  the  air, 
The  echoes  bound  to  a  joyful  sound, 

But  shrink  from  voicing  care. 

From  the  day  "  Solitude "  appeared  in  Miss 
Wheeler's  "  Poems  of  Passion  "  in  1883,  and  so 
long  as  Field  lived,  he  never  ceased  to  fan  this 
controversy  into  renewed  life,  more  often  than  not 
by  assuming  a  tone  of  indignation  that  there  should 
be  any  question  over  it,  as  in  the  following  recur 
rence  to  the  subject  in  July,  1885: 

It  is  reported  that  Mrs.  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox  is 
anxious  to  institute  against  Colonel  John  A.  Joyce 
such  legal  proceedings  as  will  determine  beyond  all 
doubt  that  she,  and  not  Colonel  Joyce,  was  the  author 
of  the  poem  entitled  "Love  and  Laughter,"  and 
beginning : 

"  Laugh,  and  the  world  laughs  with  you; 
Weep,  and  you  weep  alone" 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       327 

Mrs.  Wilcox  is  perhaps  the  most  touchy  person  in 
American  literature  at  the  present  time.  For  a  num 
ber  of  years  she  has  been  contributing  to  the  news 
paper  press  of  the  country,  and  her  verses  have  been 
subjected  to  the  harshest  sort  of  criticism.  The 
paragraphists  of  the  press  have  bastinadoed  and  gib 
beted  her  in  the  most  cruel  manner;  her  poems  have 
been  burlesqued,  parodied,  and  travestied  heartlessly 
— in  short,  every  variety  of  criticism  has  been  heaped 
upon  her  work,  which,  even  the  most  prejudiced  will 
admit,  has  evinced  remarkable  boldness  and  an  amaz 
ing  facility  of  expression.  Now  we  would  suppose 
that  all  this  shower  of  criticism  had  tanned  the  fair 
author's  hide — we  speak  metaphorically — until  it  was 
impervious  to  every  unkindly  influence.  But  so  far 
from  being  bomb-proof,  Mrs.  Wilcox  is  even  more 
sensitive  than  when  she  bestrode  her  Pegasus  for  the 
first  time  and  soared  into  that  dreamy  realm  where 
the  lyric  muse  abides.  There  is  not  a  quip  nor  a  quil 
let  from  the  slangy  pen  of  the  daily  newspaper  writers 
that  she  does  not  brood  over  and  worry  about  as 
heartily  as  if  it  were  an  overdue  mortgage  on  her 
pianoforte.  We  presume  to  say  that  the  protests 
which  she  has  made  within  the  last  two  years  against 
the  utterances  of  the  press  would  fill  a  tome.  Now 
this  Joyce  affair  is  simply  preposterous;  we  do  not 
imagine  that  there  is  in  America  at  the  present  time 
an  ordinarily  intelligent  person  who  has  ever  believed 
for  one  moment  that  Colonel  Joyce  wrote  the  poem 


328  EUGENE    FIELD 

in  question — the  poem  entitled  "  Love  and  Laugh 
ter."  Colonel  Joyce  is  an  incorrigible  practical 
joker,  and  his  humor  has  been  marvellously  tickled 
by  the  prodigious  worry  his  jest  has  cost  the  Wiscon 
sin  bard.  The  public  understands  the  situation; 
there  is  no  good  reason  why  Mrs.  Wilcox  should  fume 
and  fret  and  scurry  around,  all  on  account  of  that 
poem,  like  a  fidgety  hen  with  one  chicken.  Her  claim 
is  universally  conceded;  there  is  no  shadow  of  doubt 
that  she  wrote  the  poem  in  question,  and  by  becoming 
involved  in  any  further  complication  on  this  subject 
she  will  simply  make  a  laughing-stock  of  herself;  we 
would  be  sorry  to  see  her  do  that. 

And  yet  whenever  his  stock  of  subjects  for  com 
ment  or  raillery  ran  low  he  would  write  a  letter 
to  himself,  asking  the  address  of  Colonel  John  A. 
Joyce,  the  author  of  "  Love  and  Laughter,"  and 
manage  in  his  answer  to  open  up  the  whole  con 
troversy  afresh.  I  suppose  that  to  this  day  there 
are  thousands  of  good  people  in  the  United  States 
whose  innocence  has  been  abused  by  Field's  su- 
perserviceable  defence  of  Mrs.  Wilcox's  title  to 
"  Laugh  and  the  World  Laughs  with  You."  It 
was  delicious  fooling  to  him  and  to  those  of  us  who 
were  on  the  inside,  but  I  question  if  Mrs.  Wilcox 
ever  appreciated  its  humorous  aspect. 

Speaking  of  his  practice  of  getting  public  atten- 


NATUEE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       329 

tion  for  his  own  compositions  through  a  letter  of 
his  own  "  To  the  Editor,"  the  following  affords  a 
good  example  of  his  ingenious  method,  with  his 
reply : 

EVANSTON,  ILL.,  Aug.  15,  1888. 
To  the  Editor: 

Several  of  us  are  very  anxious  to  learn  the  author 
ship  of  the  following  poem,  which  is  to  be  found  in 
so  many  scrap-books,  and  which  ever  and  anon  ap 
pears  as  a  newspaper  waif : 

RESIGNATION 

I  have  a  dear  canary  bird, 

That  every  morning  sings 
The  sweetest  songs  I  ever  heard, 

And  ftaps  his  yellow  wings. 

I  love  to  sit  the  whole  day  long 

Beside  the  window-sill, 
And  listen  to  the  joyous  song 

That  warbler  loves  to  trill. 

My  mother  says  that  in  a  year 

The  bird  that  I've  adored 
'Will  maybe  lay  some  eggs  and  rear 

A  callow,  cooing  horde. 

But  father  says  it's  quite  absurd 

To  think  that  bird  can  lay, 
For  though  it  is  a  wondrous  bird, 

It  isn't  built  that  way. 


330  EUGENE    FIELD 

Now  whether  mother  tells  me  true 

Or  father,  bothers  me; 
There's  nothing  else  for  me  to  do 

But  just  to  wait  and  see. 

Whatever  befalls  this  bird  of  minef 
I  am  resolved  'twill  please — 

Far  be  it  from  me  to  repine 
At  what  the  Lord  decrees. 

Mr.  Slason  Thompson,  compiler  of  "  The  Humbler 
Poets/'  could  decide  this  matter  for  us  if  he  were 
here  now,  but  unhappily  he  is  out  of  town  just  at 
present.  We  have  a  suspicion  that  the  poem  was 
originally  written  by  Isaac  Watts,  but  that  suspicion 
is  impaired  somewhat  by  another  suspicion  that  there 
were  no  such  things  as  canary  birds  in  Isaac  Watts's 
time.  Yours  truly, 

MELISSA  MAYFIELD. 

We  have  shown  this  letter  to  Evanston's  most  dis 
tinguished  citizen,  the  Hon.  Andrew  Shuman,  and 
that  sapient  poet-critic  tells  us  that  as  nearly  as  he 
can  recollect  the  poem  was  written,  not  by  Dr.  Watts, 
but  by  an  American  girl.  But  whether  that  girl  was 
Lucretia  Davidson  or  Miss  Ada  C.  Sweet  he  cannot 
recall. 

Mr.  Francis  F.  Browne,  of  The  Dial,  thinks  it  is 
one  of  Miss  Wheeler's  earlier  poems,  since  it  is  im 
bued  with  that  sweet  innocence,  that  childish  sim 
plicity,  and  that  meek  piety  which  have  ever  char- 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       331 

acterized  the  work  of  the  famous  Wisconsin  lyrist. 
But  as  we  can  learn  nothing  positive  as  to  the  author 
ship  of  the  poem,  we  shall  have  to  call  upon  the 
public  at  large  to  help  us  out. 

It  is  needless  to  say  that  the  public  at  large  could 
throw  no  light  on  the  composition  of  this  imita 
tion  of  Dr.  Watts  with  which  Field  was  not  already 
possessed,  since  both  poem  and  "  Melissa  Mayfield  " 
were  creations  of  Field's  fancy. 

One  of  the  most  characteristic  examples  of  the 
pains  he  would  take  to  palm  off  a  composition  of 
his  own  upon  some  innocent  and  unsuspecting  pub 
lic  man  appeared  in  the  Morning  News  on  Janu 
ary  22d,  1887.  It  was  nothing  short  of  an  attempt 
to  father  upon  the  late  Judge  Thomas  M.  Cooley 
the  authorship  of  half  a  dozen  bits  of  verse  of  vary 
ing  styles  and  degrees  of  excellence.  He  professed 
to  have  received  from  Jasper  Eastman,  a  promi 
nent  citizen  of  Adrian,  Mich.,  twenty-eight  poems 
written  by  Judge  Cooley,  "  the  venerable  and 
learned  jurist,  recently  appointed  receiver  of  the 
Wabash  Kailroad."  These  were  said  to  have  ap 
peared  in  the  Ann  Arbor  Daily  News  when  it  was 
conducted  by  the  judge's  most  intimate  friend,  be 
tween  the  years  1853  and  1861.  Field  anticipated 
public  incredulity  by  saying  that  "  people  who  knew 
him  to  be  a  severe  moralist  and  a  profound  scholar 


332  EUGENE   FIELD 

will  laugh  you  to  scorn  if  you  try  to  make  them 
believe  Cooley  ever  condescended  to  express  his 
fancies  in  verse."  Then  he  went  on  to  describe 
the  judge,  at  the  time  of  writing  the  verse,  as  "  a 
long,  awkward  boy,  with  big  features,  moony  eyes, 
a  shock  of  coarse  hair,  and  the  merest  shadow  of  a 
mustache,"  in  proof  of  which  description  he  pre 
sented  a  picture  of  the  young  man,  declared  to  be 
from  a  daguerrotype  in  the  possession  of  Mr.  East 
man.  The  first  "  specimen  gem  "  was  said  to  be  a 
paraphrase  from  Theocritus,  entitled  "  Mortality  " : 

0  Nicias,  not  for  us  alone 

Was  laughing  Eros  ~born, 
Nor  shines  for  us  alone  the  moon, 

Nor  burns  the  ruddy  morn. 
Alas!   to-morrow  lies  not  in  the  ken 
Of  us  who  are,  0  Nicias,  mortal  men. 

Next  followed  a  bit,  "  in  lighter  vein,  from 
the  Simonides  of  Amorgas,"  entitled  "  A  Fickle 
Woman": 

Her  nature  is  the  sea's,  that  smiles  to-night 
A  radiant  maiden  in  the  moon's  soft  light; 
The  unsuspecting  seaman  sets  his  sails, 
Forgetful  of  the  fury  of  her  gales; 
To-morrow,  mad  with  storms,  the  ocean  roars, 
And  o'er  his  hapless  wreck  her  flood  she  pours. 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       333 

Field  then  went  on  to  describe  Judge  Cooley  as 
equally  felicitous  in  Latin  verse,  presenting  in  proof 
thereof  the  following,  "  sung  at  the  junior  class 
supper  at  Ann  Arbor,  May  14th,  1854  ": 

Nicyllam  bellis  oculis — 

(Videre  est  amare), 
Carminibus  et  poculis, 

Tra  la  la,  tra  la  la, 
Me  placet  propinare: 

Tra  la  laf  tra  la  la, — 
Me  placet  propinare! 

Beside  such  grotesque  literary  horse-play  as  this, 
with  a  gravity  startling  in  its  unexpected  daring, 
Field  proceeded  to  attribute  to  the  venerable  jurist 
one  of  the  simplest  and  purest  lullabies  that  ever 
came  from  his  own  pen,  opening  with: 

I  hear  Thy  voice,  dear  Lord; 
I  hear  it  by  the  stormy  sea 

When  winter  nights  are  bleak  and  wild, 
And  when,  affright,  I  call  to  Thee; 
It  calms  my  fears  and  whispers  me, 

"  Sleep  well,  my  child/' 

Then  follows  "  The  Vision  of  the  Holy  Grail," 
one  of  those  exercises  in  archaic  English  in  which 
Field  took  infinite  pains  as  well  as  delight,  and  to 
which,  as  a  production  of  Judge  Cooley's,  he  paid 
the  passing  tribute  of  saying  that  it  was  "  a  grace- 


334  EUGENE   FIELD 

ful  imitation  of  old  English."     As  an  example  of 
the  judge's  humorous  vein  Field  printed  the  con 
clusion  of  his  lines  "  To  a  Blue  Jay  ": 
When  I  had  shooed  the  bird  away 

And  plucked  the  plums — a  quart  or  more — 
I  noted  that  the  saucy  jay, 
Albeit  he  had  naught  to  say, 

Appeared  much  bluer  than  before. 

After  crediting  the  judge  with  a  purposely  awful 
parody  on  "  Dixie,"  in  which  "  banner  "  is  made 
to  rhyme  with  "  Savannah,"  and  "  holy "  with 
"  Pensacola,"  Field  concluded  the  whimsical  fabri 
cation  with  the  serious  comment:  "  It  seems  a  pity 
that  such  poetic  talent  as  Judge  Cooley  evinced  was 
not  suffered  to  develop.  His  increasing  profes 
sional  duties  and  his  political  employments  put  a 
quietus  to  those  finer  intellectual  indulgences  with 
which  his  earlier  years  were  fruitful." 

Having  launched  this  piece  of  literary  drollery, 
over  which  he  had  studied  and  we  had  talked  for 
a  week  or  more,  Field  proceeded  to  clinch  the 
verse-making  on  Judge  Cooley  by  a  series  of  let 
ters  to  himself,  one  or  two  of  which  will  indicate 
the  fertile  cleverness  and  humor  he  employed  to 
cram  his  bald  fabrication  down  the  public  gullet. 
The  first  appeared  on  January  24th,  in  the  follow 
ing  letter  "  to  the  Editor  ": 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       335 

I  have  read  Judge  Cooley's  poems  with  a  good  deal 
of  interest.  I  am  somewhat  of  a  poet  myself,  having 
written  sonnets  and  things  now  and  then  for  the  last 
twenty  years.  My  opinion  is  that  Judge  Cooley's 
translations,  paraphrases,  and  imitations,  are  much 
worthier  than  his  original  work.  I  hold  that  no  poet 
can  be  a  true  poet  unless  he  is  at  the  same  time  some 
what  of  a  naturalist.  If  Judge  Cooley  had  been  any 
thing  of  a  naturalist  he  would  never  have  made  such 
a  serious  blunder  as  he  has  made  in  his  poem  entitled 
"  Lines  to  a  Blue  Jay."  The  idea  of  putting  a  blue 
jay  into  a  plum-tree  is  simply  shocking!  I  don't 
know  when  I've  had  anything  grate  so  harshly  upon 
my  feelings  as  did  this  mistake  when  I  discovered  it 
this  morning.  It  is  as  awful  as  the  blunder  made 
by  one  of  the  modern  British  poets  (I  forget  his 
name)  in  referring  to  the  alligators  paddling  about 
in  Lake  Erie.  The  blue  jay  (Cyanurus  cristatus) 
does  not  eat  plums,  and  therefore  does  not  infest 
plum-trees.  Yours  truly, 

CADMON  E.  BATES. 

Upon  which  Field,  in  his  editorial  plurality, 
commented : 

To  Professor  Bates' s  criticism  we  shall  venture  no 
reply.  We  think,  however,  that  allowance  should  be 
made  for  the  youth  of  the  poet  when  he  committed 
the  offence  which  so  grievously  torments  our  cor 
respondent.  It  might  be  argued,  too,  that  the  jay  of 


336  EUGENE    FIELD 

which  the  poet  treats  is  no  ordinary  bird,  but  is  one 
of  those  omnivorous  creatures  which  greedily  pounce 
upon  everything  coming  within  their  predatory 
reach. 

And  two  days  later  he  made  bold  to  crush  the 
judge's  critics  with  letters  from  the  same  versatile 
pen  that  never  failed  to  aid  in  the  furtherance  of  its 
master's  hoaxes: 

To  the  Editor :  Prof.  Bates  may  be  a  good  taxider 
mist,  but  he  knows  little  of  ornithology.  Never  be 
fore  he  spoke  was  it  denied  that  the  Cyanurus  cris- 
tatus  (blue  jay)  fed  upon  plums.  All  the  insect- 
eating  birds  also  eat  of  the  small  fruits.  It  is  plain 
that  the  poet  knew  this,  even  though  the  taxidermist 
didn't.  Yours  truly, 

L.    E.    COWPERTHWAITE. 

To  the  Editor :  Isn't  Prof.  Bates  too  severe  in  his 
claim  that  genius  like  that  of  the  poetic  Judge  Cooley 
should  be  bound  down  by  the  prosaic  facts  of  ornith 
ology?  Milton  scorned  fidelity  to  nature,  especially 
when  it  came  to  ornithological  details,  and  poets,  as 
a  class,  have  been  singularly  wayward  in  this  respect. 
My  impression  is  that  Judge  Cooley  has  simply  made 
use  of  a  poetic  license  which  any  fair-minded  person 
should  be  willing  to  concede  the  votaries  of  the  muse. 

Yours  truly, 

J.  G.  K. 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       337 

The  echoes  of  Judge  Cooley's  youthful  verse 
were  never  permitted  to  die  wholly  out  of  Field's 
column,  but  were  frequently  given  renewed  life 
by  casual  references.  Even  the  publication  of 
"The  Divine  Lullaby"  in  his  "Little  Book  of 
Western  Verse "  did  not  prevent  Field  from 
speaking  of  Judge  Cooley's  poetical  diversions. 

On  another  occasion  he  spent  his  odd  time  for 
weeks  in  preparing  a  humorous  hoax  upon  the 
critics  of  Chicago.  It  consisted  of  a  number  of 
close  imitations  of  the  typical  verses  of  Dr.  Watts, 
in  which  he  was  a  master.  The  fruits  of  his 
congenial  labor  on  this  occasion  are  preserved  in 
his  collected  works.  But  the  purpose  for  which 
they  were  prepared  adds  to  their  interest.  They 
were  incorporated  in  a  prose  article  which  gave  a 
plausible  account  of  how  they  had  been  exhumed 
from  the  correspondence  of  a  sentimental  friend 
of  Watts.  When  the  last  strokes  had  been  put 
upon  the  story,  whose  tone  of  genuineness  was 
calculated  to  deceive  the  elect,  it  was  mailed  to 
Charles  A.  Dana,  who  was  thoroughly  in  sympa 
thy  with  Field  in  all  such  enterprises,  and  on  the 
following  Sunday  it  appeared  in  the  New  York 
Sun  as  an  extract  from  a  London  paper.  As  soon 
as  the  publication  reached  Chicago  a  number  of 

the  cleverest  reporters  on  the   News  staff   were 
VOL.  I.— 22 


338  EUGENE    FIELD 

sent  out  to  interview  the  local  literary  authorities. 
They  were  all  carefully  coached  by  Field  what 
questions  to  ask  and  what  points  to  avoid,  and 
their  reports  were  all  turned  over  to  him  to  pre 
pare  for  publication.  Next  morning  the  better 
part  of  a  page  of  the  News  was  surrendered  to 
quotations  from  the  fictitious  article,  with  learned 
dissertations  on  the  value  of  the  discovery,  coupled 
with  careful  comparisons  of  the  style  and  senti 
ments  of  the  verse  with  the  acknowledged  work 
of  Watts.  In  the  whole  city  only  one  of  those 
interviewed  was  saved,  by  a  sceptical  analysis, 
from  falling  into  the  pit  so  adroitly  prepared  by 
Field. 

Loyal  to  Chicago,  to  a  degree  incomprehensible 
by  those  who  judged  his  sentiments  by  his  un 
sparing  comments  on  its  crudities  in  social  and 
literary  ways,  he  never  ceased  to  get  pleasure  out 
of  serio-comic  confounding  of  its  business  activi 
ties  and  artistic  aspirations.  Its  business  men 
and  enterprises  were  constantly  referred  to  in  his 
column  as  equally  strenuous  in  the  pursuit  of 
the  almighty  dollar  and  of  the  higher  intellectual 
life.  In  his  view  "  Culture's  Garland,"  from 
the  Chicago  stand-point,  was,  indeed,  a  string  of 
sausages.  Of  this  spirit  the  following,  printed  in 
December,  1890,  is  a  good  example: 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       339 

A  DANGER  THAT  THREATENS 

The  rivalry  between  the  trade  and  the  literary  in 
terests  in  Chicago  has  been  wondrously  keen  this  year. 

Prof.  Potwins,  the  most  eminent  of  our  statisti 
cians,  figures  that  we  now  have  in  the  midst  of  us 
either  a  poet  or  an  author  to  every  square  yard  within 
the  corporate  limits,  and  he  estimates  that  in  ten 
years'  time  we  shall  have  a  literary  output  large 
enough  to  keep  all  the  rest  of  the  world  reading  all 
the  time. 

Our  trade  has  been  increasing,  too.  Last  Septem 
ber  382,098  cattle  were  received,  against  330,994  in 
September  of  1889.  So  far  this  year  the  increase 
over  1889  in  the  receipts  of  hogs  is  2,000,000. 

Last  year  not  more  than  2,700  young  authors  con 
tributed  stories  to  the  Christmas  number  of  the  Daily 
News :  this  year  the  number  of  contributors  reached 
6,125. 

Hitherto  the  rivalry  between  our  trade  and  our  lit 
erature  has  been  friendly  to  a  degree.  The  packer  has 
patronized  the  poet ;  metaphorically  speaking,  the  hog 
and  the  epic  have  lain  down  together  and  wallowed 
in  the  same  Parnassan  pool.  The  censers  that  have 
swung  continually  in  the  temple  of  the  muses  have 
been  replenished  with  lard  oil,  and  to  our  grateful 
olfactories  has  the  joyous  Lake  breezes  wafted  the 
refreshing  odors  of  sonnets  and  of  slaughter  pens 
commingled. 


340  EUGENE   FIELD 

But  how  long  is  this  sort  of  thing  going  to  last? 
It  surely  cannot  be  the  millennium.  These  twin 
giants  will  some  day — alas,  too  soon — learn  their 
powers  and  be  greedy  to  test  them  against  one  an 
other.  A  fatal  jealousy  seems  to  be  inevitable;  it 
may  be  fended  off,  but  how  ? 

The  world's  fair  will  be  likely  to  precipitate  a  con 
flict  between  the  interests  of  which  we  speak.  Each 
interest  is  already  claiming  precedence,  and  we  hear 
with  alarm  that  less  than  a  week  ago  one  of  our  most 
respected  packers  threatened  to  withdraw  his  support 
of  the  international  copyright  bill  unless  the  Chicago 
Literary  Society  united  in  an  indorsement  of  his 
sugar-cured  hams. 

When  we  think  of  the  horrors  that  will  attend  and 
follow  a  set-to  between  Chicago  trade  and  Chicago 
literature,  we  are  prone  to  cry  out,  in  the  words  of 
the  immortal  Moore — not  Tom — but  Mrs.  Julia  A., 
of  Michigan: 

An  awful  tremor  quakes  the  soul! 

And  makes  the  heart  to  quiver, 
While  up  and  down  the  spine  dotli  roll 

A  melancholy  shiver. 

In  December,  1895,  Edmund  Clarence  Sted- 
man  contributed  to  the  "  Souvenir  Book  "  of  the 
New  York  Hebrew  Fair  a  charmingly  apprecia 
tive,  yet  justly  critical,  tribute  to  Eugene  Field, 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       341 

whom  he  likened  to  Shakespeare's  Yorick,  whose 
"  motley  covered  the  sweetest  nature  and  tender- 
est  heart."  Mr.  Stedman  there  speaks  of  Field 
as  a  "  complex  American  with  the  obstreperous 
bizarrerie  of  the  frontier  and  the  artistic  delicacy 
of  our  oldest  culture  always  at  odds  within  him — 
but  he  was  above  all  a  child  of  nature,  a  frolic 
incarnate,  and  just  as  he  would  have  been  in  any 
time  or  country."  He  also  tells  how  Field  put 
their  friendship  to  one  of  those  tests  which  sooner 
or  later  he  applied  to  all  —  the  test  of  linking 
their  names  with  something  utterly  ludicrous  and 
impossible,  but  published  with  all  the  solemn  ear 
marks  of  verity.  It  was  on  the  occasion  of  Mr. 
Stcdman's  visit  to  Chicago  on  its  invitation  to  lect 
ure  before  the  Twentieth  Century  Club.  This 
gave  Field  the  cue  to  announce  the  coming  event 
in  a  way  to  fill  the  visitor  with  consternation. 
About  two  weeks  before  the  poet-critic  was  ex 
pected,  Field's  column  contained  the  following 
innocent  paragraph: 

Mr.  Edmund  Clarence  Stedman,  the  poet,  and  the 
foremost  of  American  critics,  is  about  to  visit  Chi 
cago.  He  comes  as  the  guest  of  the  Twentieth 
Century  Club,  and  on  the  evening  of  Tuesday,  the 
28th  inst.,  he  will  deliver  before  that  discriminating 
body  an  address  upon  the  subject  of  "  Poetry,"  this 


342  EUGENE   FIELD 

address  being  one  of  the  notable  series  which  Mr. 
Stedman  prepared  for  and  read  before  the  under 
graduates  of  Johns  Hopkins  University  last  winter. 
These  discourses  are,  as  we  judge  from  epitomes  pub 
lished  in  the  New  York  Tribune,  marvels  of  scholar 
ship  and  of  criticism. 

Twenty  years  have  elapsed,  as  we  understand,  since 
Mr.  Stedman  last  visited  Chicago.  He  will  find 
amazing  changes,  all  in  the  nature  of  improvements. 
He  will  be  delighted  with  the  beauty  of  our  city  and 
with  the  appreciation,  the  intelligence,  and  the  cult 
ure  of  our  society.  But  what  should  and  will  please 
him  most  will  be  the  cordiality  of  that  reception 
which  Chicago  will  give  him,  and  the  enthusiasm 
with  which  she  will  entertain  this  charming  prince 
of  American  letters,  this  eminent  poet,  this  mighty 
good  fellow ! 

I  doubt  if  Mr.  Stedman  ever  saw  this  item, 
which  Field  merely  inserted,  as  was  his  wont,  as 
a  prelude  to  the  whimsical  announcement  which 
followed  in  two  days,  and  which  was  eagerly 
copied  in  the  E"ew  York  papers  in  time  to  make 
Mr.  Stedman  cast  about  for  some  excuse  for  being 
somewhere  else  than  in  Chicago  on  the  29th  of 
April,  1891.  This  second  notice  is  too  good  an 
instance  of  the  liberty  Field  took  with  the  name 
of  a  friend  in  his  delectable  vocation  of  laying 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       343 

"  the  knotted  lash  of  sarcasm  "  about  the  shoul 
ders  of  wealth  and  fashion  of  Chicago,  not  to  be 
quoted  in  full.  It  was  given  with  all  the  pre 
cision  of  typographical  arrangement  that  is  con 
sidered  proper  in  printing  a  veritable  programme 
of  some  public  procession,  in  the  following  terms: 

Chicago  literary  circles  are  all  agog  over  the  pros 
pective  visit  of  Mr.  Edmund  Clarence  Stedman,  the 
eminent  poet-critic.  At  the  regular  monthly  con 
clave  of  the  Robert  Browning  Benevolent  and  Patri- 
otical  Association  of  Cook  County,  night  before  last, 
it  was  resolved  to  invite  Mr.  Stedman  to  a  grand 
complimentary  banquet  at  the  Kinsley's  on  Wednes 
day  evening,  the  29th.  Prof.  William  Morton  Payne, 
grand  marshal  of  the  parade  which  is  to  conduct  the 
famous  guest  from  the  railway  station  the  morning 
he  arrives,  tells  us  that  the  procession  will  be  in  this 
order : 

Twenty  police  officers  afoot. 

The  grand  marshal,  horseback,  accompanied  by  ten 
male  members  of  the  Twentieth  Century  Club, 

also  horseback. 
Mr.  Stedman  in  a  landau  drawn  by  four  horses, 

two  black  and  two  white. 
The  Twentieth  Century  Club  in  carriages. 

A  brass  band  afoot. 

The  Robert  Browning  Club  in  Frank  Parmelee's 
'buses. 


344  EUGENE   FIELD 

The  Homer  Clubs  afoot,  preceded  by  a  fife-and-drum 

corps  and  a  real  Greek  philosopher 

attired  in  a  tunic. 

Another  brass  band. 

A  beautiful  young  woman  playing  the  guitar,  sym 
bolizing  Apollo  and  his  lute  in  a  car  drawn 
by  nine  milk-white  stallions,  imper 
sonating  the  muses. 
Two  Hundred  Chicago  poets  afoot. 
The  Chicago  Literary  Club  in  carriages. 
A  splendid  gilded  chariot  bearing  Gunther's  Shake 
speare  autograph  and  Mr.  Ellsworth's  first 

printed  book. 

Another  brass  band. 

Magnificent  advertising  car  of  Armour  and  Co., 

illustrating  the  progress  of  civilization. 

The  Fishbladder  Brigade  and  the  Blue  Island 

Avenue  Shelley  Club. 

The  fire  department. 

Another  brass  band. 

Citizens  in  carriages,  afoot  and  horseback. 
Advertising  cars  and  wagons. 

The  line  of  march  will  be  an  extensive  one,  taking 
in  the  packing-houses  and  other  notable  points.  At 
Mr.  Armour's  interesting  professional  establishment 
the  process  of  slaughtering  will  be  illustrated  for  the 
delectation  of  the  honored  guest,  after  which  an  ap 
propriate  poem  will  be  read  by  Decatur  Jones,  Presi- 


NATURE   OF  HIS  DAILY  WORK       345 

dent  of  the  Lake  View  Elite  Club.  Then  Mr.  Ar 
mour  will  entertain  a  select  few  at  a  champagne 
luncheon  in  the  scalding-room. 

In  high  literary  circles  it  is  rumored  that  the  Rev. 
F.  M.  Bristol  has  got  an  option  on  all  autographs 
that  Mr.  Stedman  may  write  during  his  stay  in  Chi 
cago.  Much  excitement  has  been  caused  by  this,  and 
there  is  talk  of  an  indignation  meeting  in  Battery  D, 
to  be  addressed  by  the  Rev.  Flavius  Gunsaulus,  the 
Rev.  Frank  W.  Brobst,  and  other  eminent  speakers. 

Small  wonder  that  Mr.  Stedman's  soul  was  rilled 
with  trepidation  as  his  train  approached  Chicago, 
and  that  he  was  greatly  relieved  as  it  rolled  into 
the  station  to  find  only  a  few  friends  awaiting 
him;  and  among  them  he  quickly  singled  out 
Eugene  Field,  "  his  sardonic  face  agrin  like  a 
school-boy 's." 

Enough  has  been  written  and  quoted  to  give 
the  reader  a  fair  idea  of  the  general  character  of 
Eugene  Field's  daily  work  and  of  the  spirit  that 
inspired  it.  As  Mr.  Stedman  has  said,  the  work 
of  the  journeyman  and  the  real  literary  artist  ap 
peared  cheek  by  jowl  in  his  column.  The  best 
of  it  has  been  preserved  in  his  collected  works. 
That  given  in  this  chapter  is  merely  intended  to 
show  how  he  illuminated  the  lightest  and  most 
ephemeral  topics  of  the  day  with  a  literary  touch 


346  EUGENE   FIELD 

at  once  acute  and  humorous,  and  certainly  un 
conventional.  In  the  Appendix  to  these  volumes 
the  reader  will  find  a  review  of  the  fictitious  bi 
ography  of  Miss  Emma  Abbott,  the  once  noted 
opera  singer.  It  is  an  ingenious  piece  of  work 
and  will  repay  reading  as  a  satire  on  current  re 
viewing,  besides  illustrating  the  daring  liberty 
Field  could  take  with  anyone  whom  he  reckoned 
a  friend. 

The  following  paragraph,  which  will  serve  as  a 
tail-piece  to  this  chapter,  printed  May  31st,  1894, 
shows  how  the  playful  raillery  which  marked 
his  earlier  work  in  and  about  Chicago  survived 
to  the  end: 

The  oldest  house  in  Chicago  stands  on  the  West 
Side,  and  was  built  in  1839  A.D.  The  oldest  horse 
in  Chicago  works  for  the  Lake  View  Street-Car  Com 
pany,  and  was  present  at  the  battle  of  Marathon, 
490  B.C. 


END  OF  VOL.  I. 


v*\ 


RETURN TO: 


CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 
198  Main  Stacks 


LOAN  PERIOD     1 
Home  Use 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS. 

Renewals  and  Recharges  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  the  due  date. 
Books  may  be  renewed  by  calling  642-3405. 


DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW. 

AUb  '-',  2  mi 

' 

FORM  NO.  DD6                        UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 
50M    5-02                                               Berkeley,  California  94720-6000 

